The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, Volume 2 (of 2) (part 2 of 4)

The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, Volume 2 (of 2) (part 2 of 4)

“Never did I see more of the hand of God, in any of my journeys, than in this. At Mr. Grimshaw’s, I believe, there were above six thousand hearers. The sacramental occasion was most awful. At Leeds, the congregation consisted of above ten thousand. In the morning, at five, I was obliged to preach out of doors. In my way hither, I met Mr. Charles Wesley, who returned, and introduced me to the pulpit in Newcastle. As I am a debtor to all, and intend to be at the head of no party, I thought it my duty to comply. I have preached in their room four times, and, this morning, I preached to many thousands in a large close. This evening, I am to do the same. The power of God has attended His word, and there seems to be a quickening of souls. To-morrow, God willing, we set out for Leeds. As it is so late in the year, my Scotch friends advise me to defer my going thither. Had I known that, I should have embarked for America this autumn.”

In these and other letters, written while in the north of England, Whitefield makes no mention of an event too important to be entirely omitted. It was now that Charles Wesley succeeded in preventing his brother marrying Grace Murray, by getting her married to John Bennet. This unpleasant, almost romantic, incident occupies so large a space in “The Life and Times of Wesley,” that I here purposely refrain from entering into details. The account there introduced has been severely criticised and censured by some of Wesley’s admirers, who seem to be unwilling to admit that he shared any of the infirmities common to human beings. I can only say, that while I could add to the details I have already given, I know of nothing that I ought either to retract or to modify. There can be no doubt that Whitefield was cognisant of the intentions of Charles Wesley; for the marriage with Bennet took place in Newcastle, the very day Whitefield left that town for Leeds; and, further, on the night previous to the marriage, Wesley, at Whitehaven, received a letter from Whitefield, requesting that he would meet him and Charles Wesley, at Leeds, two days afterwards. Nothing more shall be added, except to give Wesley’s own account of the distressing interview. He writes:――

“October 4, 1749. At Leeds, I found, not my brother, but Mr. Whitefield. I lay down by him on the bed. He told me my brother would not come till John Bennet and Grace Murray were married. I was troubled; he perceived it; he wept and prayed over me, but I could not shed a tear. He said all that was in his power to comfort me; but it was in vain. He told me it was his judgment that she was my wife,[250] and that he had said so to John Bennet, that he would fain have persuaded them to wait, and not to marry till they had seen me; but that my brother’s impetuosity prevailed and bore down all before it. On Thursday, October 5, about eight, one came in from Newcastle, and told us ‘They were married on Tuesday.’ My brother came an hour after. I felt no anger, yet I did not desire to see him; but Mr. Whitefield constrained me. After a few words had passed, he accosted me with, ‘I renounce all intercourse with you, but what I would have with a heathen man or a publican.’ I felt little emotion; it was only adding a drop of water to a drowning man; yet I calmly accepted his renunciation, and acquiesced therein. Poor Mr. Whitefield and John Nelson burst into tears. They prayed, cried, and entreated, till the storm passed away. We could not speak, but only fell on each other’s neck.”

Thus did Whitefield help to prevent a breach of the lifelong and ardent friendship of the Wesley brothers. Three days afterwards, Charles Wesley wrote to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, the London banker, as follows:――

“SHEFFIELD, Sunday Morning, October 8, 1749.

“George Whitefield, and my brother, and I, are one,――a threefold cord which shall no more be broken. The week before last, I waited on our friend George to our house in Newcastle, and gave him full possession of our pulpit and people’s hearts, as full as was in my power to give. The Lord united all our hearts. I attended his successful ministry for some days. He was never more blessed or better satisfied. Whole troops of the Dissenters he mowed down. They also are so reconciled to us, as you cannot conceive. The world is confounded. The hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. At Leeds, we met my brother, who gave honest George the right hand of fellowship, and attended him everywhere to our Societies. Some in London will be alarmed at the news; but it is the Lord’s doing, as they, I doubt not, will by-and-by acknowledge.”[251]

It is a fact worth noting, that, on the memorable day, when Whitefield, the two Wesleys, John Bennet and his newly wedded wife met at Leeds, Whitefield preached in that town at five in the morning, and at Birstal, at five in the evening.[252] On both occasions, stricken-hearted Wesley was present, and says, “God gave Mr. Whitefield both strong and persuasive words.”[253] Five days afterwards, Wesley was in Newcastle, and, in soberer language than that used by his brother, pronounced the following judgment on Whitefield’s visit there: “I was now satisfied that God had sent Mr. Whitefield to Newcastle in an acceptable time; many of those who had little thought of God before, still retain the impressions they received from him.”[254]

On leaving Leeds, Whitefield, accompanied by Ingham, set out on another evangelizing tour through Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire.[255] “Go on,” wrote Howell Harris, in a letter to Whitefield, dated “October 15, 1749,”――“Go on, and blaze abroad the fame of Jesus, till you take your flight, to bow, among the innumerable company, before His unalterable glory!”[256] And “go on” Whitefield did. The following was written to Lady Fanny Shirley, at Ewood, (or Estwood, as Whitefield calls it,) a place whence Grimshaw had married his first wife, and where he occasionally resided.

“ESTWOOD, IN LANCASHIRE, October 25, 1749.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Since I wrote to your ladyship from Newcastle, I have preached about thirty times in Yorkshire, and above ten times in Cheshire and Lancashire. Congregations have been very large, and a convincing and comforting influence has everywhere attended the word. In one or two places, I have had a little rough treatment; but elsewhere all has been quiet. At the importunity of many, I am now returning from Manchester to Leeds; from thence I purpose going to Sheffield; next week I hope to see good Lady Huntingdon at Ashby; and the week following I hope to be in London. Thus do I lead a pilgrim life. God give me a pilgrim heart, and enable me to speak of redeeming love to a lost world, till I can speak no more. Mrs. Galatin, at Manchester, goes on well, and is not ashamed to confess Him, who, I trust, has called her out of darkness into marvellous light.”

Colonel and Mrs. Galatin were sincere and warm-hearted friends both of Whitefield and the Wesleys. Whitefield met them in Manchester, where the colonel[257] was then stationed, and made the best use of his opportunity to benefit him and his subordinate officers. Hence the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LEEDS, October 30, 1749.

“I forwarded your letter to Mrs. Galatin, at Manchester. She seems to be quite in earnest. I conversed for about two hours with the captain and some other officers, upon the nature and necessity of the new birth. He was affected; and, I hope, the conversation was blessed. Since I left them, I have preached to many thousands in Rosendale, Aywood” (Ewood?) “and Halifax; also at Birstal, Pudsey, and Armley; and I have had three precious seasons here. Congregations are exceeding large, and both the Established and Dissenting Clergy are very angry. I hear that yesterday they thundered heartily. But truth is great, and will prevail, though preached in the fields and streets.

“I thought to have been at Ashby next Lord’s-day, but a door seems to be opened at Nottingham, and I have thoughts of trying what can be done there. This morning I shall set out for Sheffield. This day week, your ladyship may depend on seeing me at Ashby.”

On November 13th, Whitefield left the country residence of Lady Huntingdon for London. On arriving there, he found letters, which turned his attention to Ireland.

After John Cennick seceded from Whitefield, he, in June 1746, went to Dublin, and commenced preaching in Skinner’s Alley. Soon after this, Cennick had to attend a Moravian Synod in Germany; and, during his absence, Thomas Williams, one of Wesley’s itinerants, visited Dublin, began to preach, and formed a Society. In August, 1747, Wesley himself went to Dublin, and became the guest of Mr. William Lunell, a banker, a man of wealth and great respectability, who had been converted under the preaching of Cennick and Williams. A year afterwards, Charles Wesley found him mourning the loss of his wife and child, and did all he could to comfort him. Mr. Lunell became one of Wesley’s most liberal supporters. He gave £400 towards the erection of Dublin chapel; and, more than twenty years subsequent to this, Wesley declared that Mr. Lunell, of Dublin, and Mr. Thomas ♦James, of Cork, were the most munificent benefactors that Methodism had ever had.[258]

From the first, Methodism in Ireland had to encounter persecution. In Dublin, the pulpit and benches of Marlborough Street chapel had been burnt in the open street, and several of the Methodists beaten with shillalahs. At Athlone, Jonathan Healey, one of Wesley’s itinerants, had been almost murdered. In the present year, 1749, the Methodists at Cork, with the connivance of the mayor and magistrates, had been subjected to the most cruel treatment. Both men and women were attacked with clubs and swords, and many were stabbed, gashed, slashed, stoned, and seriously wounded. Their houses were demolished, and their furniture and goods destroyed. As in Dublin, the pews, benches, and even flooring of the chapel, were dragged into the streets, and were set on fire. These horrible outrages were continued during the whole of the months of May and June.[259] Mr. Lunell wrote to Whitefield on the subject, and wished him to visit Ireland. Whitefield was quite willing to accede to this request; but, for the present, was unable to comply with it. Meanwhile, however, he deeply sympathised with the sufferers at Cork, and, as will be seen hereafter, took active steps, in conjunction with the Countess of Huntingdon, to obtain for them the protection of Government. The following letter, to Mr. Lunell, refers to the matters just mentioned:――

“LONDON, November 22, 1749.

“VERY DEAR SIR,――I received your kind letter on Monday last, and take the first opportunity of answering it.

“I believe my particular province is to go about and preach the gospel to all. My being obliged to keep up a large correspondence in America, and the necessity I am under of going thither myself, entirely prevent my taking care of any Societies. Whether it will ever be my lot to come to Ireland, I cannot say. I have some thought of being there next spring; but I would not intrude on any one’s labours. The world is large, and there is sufficient work for all. I profess to be of a catholic spirit: I am a debtor to all. I have no party to be the head of, and I will have none; but, as much as in me lies, will strengthen the hands of all, of every denomination, who preach Jesus Christ in sincerity.

“Pray how are the poor people at Cork? Lady Huntingdon writes concerning them,――‘I hope the poor persecuted people in Cork will be helped. I should be glad, if you could write in my name to any of them, and inform them that I would have written myself, but I know not how to direct. You may give them my assurance of serving them upon any occasion, and a hint that I believe they will meet with no more of the like rough usage.’ Thus far my good lady. I am persuaded you will, in a prudent manner, communicate this to all concerned.”

Whitefield’s health was generally best when he was on his gospel rambles. In London, it almost invariably suffered. Well or ill, however, when he could, Whitefield must be allowed to work. Writing to Lady Huntingdon, he says:――

“LONDON, November 30, 1749.

“London already begins to disagree with my outward man, but the Lord’s smiling upon my poor labours sweetens all. I have begun to preach at six in the morning. We have large congregations even then. I trust we shall have a warm winter. I have not been at the other end of the town this week; but I find all hold on. However, a leader is wanting. This honour has been put on your ladyship by the great Head of the Church an honour conferred on few. That you may every day add to the splendour of your future crown, by always abounding in the work of the Lord, is the fervent prayer of your unworthy servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Nine days later, he wrote again to Mr. Lunell, of Dublin:――

“LONDON, December 9, 1749.

“MY DEAR MR. LUNELL,――I find by your last kind letter that the king’s business requires haste. I, therefore, immediately dispatched it to good Lady Huntingdon, who, I am persuaded, will think it her highest privilege to serve the dear people of Cork. Whether your account of their sufferings has reached her ladyship, I cannot tell, but you will soon know. However, this we know, they have reached the ears of the blessed Jesus, who sits in heaven, and laughs all His enemies to scorn. He will take care that the bush, though burning, shall not be consumed: nay, He will take care that it shall flourish, even in the midst of fire. It will be melancholy to have any preachers transported; but the thoughts of this do not affect me so much, because I know what a field of action there is for them abroad. It has been my settled opinion for a long time, that Christ’s labourers (at least, some of them) love home too much, and do not care enough for those thousands of precious souls, that are ready to perish for lack of knowledge, in yonder wilderness. We propose having an academy, or college, at the Orphan House in Georgia. Supposing the worst to happen, hundreds may find a sweet retreat there. The house is large; it will hold a hundred. I trust my heart is larger, and will hold ten thousand. Be they who they may, if they belong to Jesus, the language of my heart shall be, ‘Come in, ye blessed of the Lord.’ But, perhaps, this may not be the issue. The threatening storm may blow over. It is always darkest before break of day.”

Whitefield’s heart was large and warm. His life was a wandering one, and he saw but little of his relatives; but his affection for them never failed. In anticipation of his birthday, he wrote to his mother the following:――

“LONDON, December 15, 1749.

“MY DEAR AND HONOURED MOTHER,――To-morrow it will be thirty-five years since you brought unworthy me into the world. Alas! how little have I done for you, and how much less for Him who formed me. This is my comfort; I hope you want for nothing. Thanks be to God for His goodness to you in your old age! I hope you comfort yourself in Him, who, I trust, will be your portion for ever. After Christmas, I hope to see you. My wife sends you her most dutiful respects. If you would have anything brought more than you have mentioned, pray write to, honoured mother, your ever dutiful, though unworthy son,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Whitefield and his Tabernacle friends began the New Year, 1750, by reading letters respecting the work of God, in different places; and by singing devout and enthusiastic doggerel. To one of his distant correspondents, he wrote thus:――

“LONDON, January 2, 1750.

“Yesterday was a blessed letter-day. These verses were sung for you, etc.:――

‘Thy work in the north, O Saviour, increase; And kindly send forth The preachers of peace: Till throughout the nation Thy gospel shall ring, And peace and salvation Each village shall sing.’

Thousands said, ‘Amen, and amen!’ Let me know when you set out for Newcastle, and whether the books shall be sent by land or water. I get very little by them. I do not desire it should be otherwise. I believe, as many are given away as answer to the profits of what are sold. If souls are profited, I desire no more.”

The reading of letters, at stated times, respecting revivals of the work of God, was an established practice, both in Whitefield’s Tabernacle and Wesley’s Foundery. The chief difference between the two places was――in the Tabernacle, each letter was followed by the singing of hymns, of which the lines just given are too good a specimen; in the Foundery, the hymns sung were some of the finest that Charles Wesley ever wrote.

The poor Methodists at Cork were again in the furnace of affliction. Butler, the ballad singer, was as violent as ever; and, until the Lent assizes, pursued his murderous career with increasing zest. Accompanied by his mob, he several times assaulted the house of William Jewell, a clothier; and, at last, took forcible possession of it, swore he would blow out the brains of the first who resisted him, beat Jewell’s wife, and then smashed all the windows. He abused Mary Philips in the grossest terms, and struck her on the head. Elizabeth Gardelet was literally almost murdered by him and his ruffians; and others were similarly abused. On January 3, 1750, Whitefield wrote:――

“Mr. Lunell sends me dreadful news from Cork. Butler is there again, making havoc of the people. Mr. Haughton,[260] some time ago, expected to be murdered every minute. I have been with some who will go to the Speaker of the House of Commons and represent the case. I hope I have but one common interest to serve; I mean that of the blessed Jesus.”

On January 5, at the Tabernacle, Whitefield preached a sermon from Ephes. iv. 24. The sermon was taken down in shorthand, and, after his death, was published, with the title, “The putting on of the New Man a certain mark of the real Christian.” (8vo. 30 pp.) The sermon is not in Whitefield’s collected works, but furnishes a good idea of the popular style he adopted. It is full of brief illustrations, and is intensely earnest; the style plain, familiar, and pointed. Three sentences may interest the reader. “Let me tell you, no matter whether you are Presbyterian or Independent, Churchman or Dissenter, Methodist or no Methodist, unless you are new creatures, you are in a state of damnation” (p. 17). “I like orthodoxy very well; but what signifies an orthodox head with a heterodox heart?” (p. 19.) “I tell thee, O man; I tell thee, O woman, whoever thou art, thou art a dead man, thou art a dead woman, nay, a damned man, a damned woman, without a new heart” (p. 27).

Whitefield, about this time, became acquainted with another clergyman, who was a man after his own heart. The Rev. William Baddiley had been made one of Lady Huntingdon’s domestic chaplains. He soon became a sort of second Grimshaw, formed a number of Societies, and employed laymen to assist him.[262] To him, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“LONDON, January 12, 1750.

“MY VERY DEAR SIR,――I now sit down to answer your kind letter. O that I may be helped to write something that may do you service in the cause in which you are embarked!

“I see you are like to have hot work, for I find you have begun to batter Satan’s strongest hold――I mean the self-righteousness of man. Here, sir, you must expect the strongest opposition. It is the Diana of every age. It is the golden image, which man continually sets up; and the not falling down to worship it, much more to speak, write, or preach against it, exposes one to the fury of its blind votaries, and we are thrown directly into a den of lions. But fear not, Mr. Baddiley; the God whom we serve is able to deliver us. If any one need give way, it must be the poor creature who is writing to you; for, I believe, there is not a person living more timorous by nature than I am. But, in a degree, Jesus has delivered me from worldly hopes and worldly fears, and often makes me as bold as a lion. But, my dear sir, at first, I did not care to part with this pretty character of mine. It was death to be despised, and worse than death to think of being laughed at. Blessed be God! now contempt and I are pretty intimate, and have been so for above twice seven years. The love of Jesus makes it an agreeable companion, and I no longer wonder that Moses made such a blessed choice. There is no doing good without enduring the scourge of the tongue; and take this for a certain rule――‘The more successful you are, the more you will be hated by Satan, and despised by those who know not God.’ What has the honoured lady suffered under whose roof you dwell! Above all, what did your blessed Master suffer! O let us follow Him, though it be through a sea of blood.”

On the same day that Whitefield wrote to her domestic chaplain, he wrote to the Countess herself. Perhaps it ought to be premised that, at this time, Wesley had, besides the “Old Foundery,” two other London chapels――one in West Street, Seven Dials, built by the French Protestants; the other in Snowfields, Bermondsey, built by a Unitarian. The “Mr. Gifford,” whom Whitefield mentions, was a man of some importance. Besides being the respected minister of the Baptist Church, in Eagle Street, London, he was chaplain to Sir Richard Ellys, the learned author of “Fortuita Sacra.” He had a private collection of coins, said to have been one of the most curious in Great Britain, and which George II. purchased as an addition to his own. Through Sir Richard Ellys, he became a personal friend of Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, Archbishop Herring, Sir Arthur Onslow, the Speaker of the House of Commons, and other persons of high social rank. He was also ultimately appointed librarian of the British Museum, and was made a doctor by the University of Aberdeen.

“LONDON, January 12, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Every day we have new hearers, and persons are almost continually brought under convictions, or are edified, at the Tabernacle.

“I have offered Mr. Wesley to assist occasionally at his chapel, and I don’t know but it may be accepted. O that I may learn to think it my highest privilege to be an assistant to all, but the head of none! I find a love of power sometimes intoxicates even God’s own dear children, and makes them to mistake passion for zeal, and an overbearing spirit for an authority given them from above. For my own part, I find it much easier to obey than to govern, and that it is much safer to be trodden under foot than to have the power to serve others so. This makes me flee from that which, at our first setting out, we are too apt to court. Thanks be to God for taking any pains with me! I cannot well buy humility at too dear a rate.

“His Majesty seems to have been acquainted with some things about us, by what passed in his discourse with Lady Chesterfield.[263] The particulars are these. Her ladyship wore a suit of clothes, with a brown ground and silver flowers. His Majesty, coming round to her, first smiled, and then laughed quite out. Her ladyship could not imagine what was the cause of this. At length, His Majesty said, ‘I know who chose that gown for you――Mr. Whitefield. I hear that you have attended on him this year and a half.’ Her ladyship answered, ‘Yes, I have, and like him very well.’

“I have been with the Speaker about the poor people in Ireland. Mr. Gifford introduced me, and opened the matter well. His honour expressed a great regard for your ladyship, and great resentment at the indignities of the poor sufferers; but said, Lord Harrington and the Secretary of State were the most proper persons to apply to; and he did not doubt that your ladyship’s application would get the people’s grievances redressed. I wished for a memorial to acquaint him with particulars. He treated me with great candour, and assured me no hurt was designed us by the State.”

Six days after this, Whitefield wrote to Mr. Lunell, as follows:――

“LONDON, January 18, 1750.

“VERY DEAR SIR,――Last Monday, I waited upon the Speaker of the House of Commons, with one Mr. Gifford, a Dissenting minister, who opened the case of our poor suffering brethren in a proper manner. The Speaker said that, though it did not properly belong to him, he would make a thorough search into the affair. He wondered that application had not been made to Lord Harrington, the king’s representative in Ireland; and wanted to be informed of more particulars. For want of a memorial, I could only shew him the contents of your letter. Two things, therefore, seem necessary. Be pleased to send a well-attested narrative of the whole affair; and wait upon Lord Harrington yourself. A friend of mine intends writing to Baron B――――. Is he in Dublin? As soon as I hear from you, more may be done. Meanwhile, the dear souls have my constant prayers, and shall have my utmost endeavours to serve them. I count their sufferings my own. Hearty Amens are given, when our friends are mentioned in prayer at the Tabernacle.

“To-morrow, I am to preach at Mr. Wesley’s chapel. O that it may be for the Redeemer’s glory, and His people’s good!”

To avoid a recurrence to the rioting at Cork, the following letter, to Mr. Lunell, is added:――

“LONDON, January 28, 1750.

“VERY DEAR SIR,――I am glad to find the storm is a little abated at Cork. I always thought it was too hot to last long. I see, by Mr. Haughton, that suffering grace is always given for suffering times. If they have honoured him so far as to give him some lashes, for preaching the everlasting gospel, I shall rejoice. I am persuaded, the persecution will stir up the resentment of persons in power on this side the water. I beg, for the dear people’s sake, you will continue your accounts. They direct me in my prayers, and also excite the prayers of others. On Monday, your letter shall be read, and we will besiege the throne of grace once more, on our dear brethren’s behalf. Surely, we shall prevail. I will use all endeavours to extricate our friends out of their troubles. Enclosed, you have a letter to the judge. You may send or deliver it, as you think proper. I hope you will wait on Lord Harrington, and let me hear what he says. The Duke” (of Newcastle) “was spoken to; and, last post, I wrote to Lady Huntingdon for the memorial, which, if sent, shall be put into the hands of some who are very near His Majesty. Some honourable women are much your friends. Jesus makes them so; and, when His people are distressed, if needful, a thousand Esthers shall be raised up.

“I have now preached three times in Mr. Wesley’s chapel; and, each time, the Lord was with us of a truth.”

The result of all this correspondence was: 1. A well-attested narrative of the persecution of the Methodists at Cork was presented to Lord Harrington, the king’s representative in Ireland. 2. A memorial was presented to His Majesty King George II., by the Countess of Chesterfield. 3. The Duke of Newcastle, then Secretary of State, was spoken to on the subject, and expressed great resentment at the proceedings of the magistrates and clergymen of Cork. 4. At the Lent assizes, 1750, the depositions of the persecuted Methodists were laid before the grand jury, but were all rejected; a true bill, however, was found against Daniel Sullivan, one of Wesley’s hearers, for discharging a pistol, without a ball, over the heads of Butler and his mob, while they were pelting him with stones; and, finally, several of the preachers, who, together with Charles Wesley, had been in August, 1749, presented, by the grand jury of the Cork assizes, as “persons of ill-fame, vagabonds, and common disturbers of the public peace,” were ordered into the dock as common criminals; but were all “acquitted,” says John Wesley, “with honour to themselves, and shame to their persecutors.” It is somewhat remarkable, that, though the Methodists of Cork were all followers of Wesley, the applications to Government officials on their behalf were all made by Whitefield and his friends. This was not for want of sympathy on the part of Wesley, but because Whitefield, by the aristocratic acquaintances he had formed, was in a better position to render help.

Another incident must be noticed. In the foregoing letters, Whitefield mentions, with seeming emphasis, his preaching in Wesley’s chapels. This, in fact, was a notable occurrence. Except for a few months, the friendship between Whitefield and Wesley had been unbroken; but, up to the present, Whitefield had but rarely preached to Wesley’s congregations. Indeed, of the ten or eleven years that had elapsed since the first formation of Wesley’s Societies, Whitefield had spent more than six in America and Scotland, where Wesley had no Societies or congregations at all; and, during the remaining four or five, his relationship to the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists was such as to prevent his rendering fraternal services like those referred to in his letters to Mr. Lunell. Now, however, he was in a new position. After considerable correspondence between Wesley and himself, it had been found that the amalgamation of their respective Societies was impracticable. For this and for other reasons, Whitefield resigned his office of moderator; and openly and repeatedly declared that he would neither found a sect, nor be at the head of one founded by others. His work for life was to be an evangelist at large,――the friend and helper of all Christian denominations, and the enemy of none. Hence, during his recent visit to the north of England, Charles Wesley introduced him to the Methodists of Newcastle; and Wesley himself to the Methodists of Leeds; and, for the next twenty years, as opportunity permitted, Whitefield rendered to Wesley’s Societies and congregations, throughout the kingdom, an amount of valuable service, the results of which cannot now be rightly estimated. The fraternal co-operation, begun at Newcastle and Leeds in 1749, was now continued in London in 1750, greatly to the delight of Whitefield and Wesley, and of their friends. Wesley’s memoranda of these memorable London services are as follows:――

“1750. Friday, January 19. In the evening, I read prayers at the chapel in West Street, and Mr. Whitefield preached a plain, affectionate discourse. Sunday, 21st. He read prayers, and I preached: so, by the blessing of God, one more stumbling-block is removed. Sunday, 28th. I read prayers, and Mr. Whitefield preached. How wise is God in giving different talents to different preachers! Even the little improprieties both of his language and manner were a means of profiting many, who would not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or a more calm and regular manner of speaking.”[264]

This was a new fact in Methodist history. Partisans, on both sides, had done their utmost to keep Whitefield and Wesley apart from each other; but now their machinations were utterly and finally frustrated. The Methodist chieftains were united, though it had been found impossible to unite their Societies. The event afforded satisfaction to others, as well as to themselves. Hence the following, addressed to Mrs. Jones, widow of R. Jones, Esq., of Fonmon Castle, a personal friend of the Wesleys, on the occasion of whose death, Charles Wesley composed a well-known “Elegy.” The writer of the letter, William Holland, had been a “painter, in a large way of business, in Basinghall Street.” He was a member of the first Moravian “congregation” in London, and was one of its “elders.” He became a preacher, and removed to Yorkshire, where he succeeded Viney in the stewardship; but, in 1746, he returned to London, resumed his trade, left the Brethren, and died in 1761.

“ROLLS BUILDINGS, FETTER LANE, “LONDON, January 27, 1750.

“DEAR MRS. JONES,――I arrived safe and well last Saturday, and found my wife and family well. The evening before, Mr. Whitefield preached in Mr. Wesley’s chapel, and Mr. J. Wesley read prayers. On Sunday, Mr. Whitefield read prayers, and Mr. J. Wesley preached; and, afterwards, they and two more clergymen administered the sacrament to Mr. Howell Harris and several of Mr. Whitefield’s Society, and to many hundreds of Mr. Wesley’s. Monday morning, Mr. H. Harris preached in the Foundery; a duke and another nobleman were there to hear Mr. J. Wesley. On Wednesday, Thursday, and yesterday, Mr. Whitefield preached again at the chapel; as also he is to do to-morrow morning, and Mr. J. Wesley in the afternoon.

“You will please to let the enclosed be delivered as directed. They and you will excuse brevity by reason of the frank.[266]

“My wife joins me in respects to you and your children. I am, your friend and servant,

“WILLIAM HOLLAND.”[267]

To return to Whitefield. In the midst of his benevolent endeavours to assist the poor Methodists at Cork, Whitefield, with his characteristic kindliness, was caring for the welfare of persons of another class. The following was written to Mr. Habersham, formerly his manager at Bethesda, and who still took a profound interest in his Orphan House.

To understand the letter, it must be added, that, though, from the first settlement of Georgia, the province had been under a military government, the trustees, about this period, established a kind of civil government, and committed the charge to a president and four councillors. Mr. Stephens was now the president. In 1751, the province was divided into eleven districts; a colonial assembly of sixteen members was inaugurated at Savannah; Henry Parker was made president; and James Habersham provincial secretary. As yet, slavery was not formally introduced, but it practically existed. The term for which European servants had been engaged being now generally expired, the difficulty of procuring labour was met by permitting the colonists to hire negroes from their owners in South Carolina.[268]

“LONDON, January 18, 1750.

“MY VERY DEAR MR. HABERSHAM,――Blessed be God, for dealing so favourably with my dear families, and for giving the prospect of such a plentiful crop! I take it as an earnest, that the Lord Jesus will be the Lord God of Bethesda, and will let the world see that designs founded on Him shall prosper.

“I shall not wonder to hear, by-and-by, that you are president. O that you and I may be clothed with humility, and that the more we are exalted by others, the more we may be abased in our own eyes! O that something may now be done for the poor negroes! A good beginning is of vast consequence. Pray stir in it, and let us exert our utmost efforts in striving to bring some of them to the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This night, I have agreed to take little Joseph and his sister. All their relations are desirous that I should have them, as they will be but poorly provided for here. I think they have a kind of natural right to be maintained at Bethesda. I suppose, in your next, you will acquaint me with particulars concerning their father, and how he has left his affairs. I hear there is a little infant, besides the other two. I would willingly have that likewise, if it could be kept till it is about three years old. I hope to be rich in heaven, by taking care of orphans on earth. Any other riches, blessed be God! are out of my view. If the crop answers expectation, I would have the poor of Savannah reap the benefit. Pray let one barrel of rice be reserved for them.

“We have had a blessed winter here. I am pretty well in health, but my wife is ill.”

On Friday, February 2nd, Whitefield arrived at Gloucester, where he spent the next ten days. Daily, he preached either in the city or in its vicinity. “Some young fellows,” says he, “behaved rudely; but that is no wonder; the carnal mind is ♦enmity against God.” To Colonel Gumley, who had been converted under his preaching at Lady Huntingdon’s, and who was the father of the Countess of Bath, he wrote, on February 8th:――

“Contrary to my intentions, I have been prevailed on to stay all this week in Gloucester; so that I do not expect to be at Bristol till the 12th instant. I am sorry to hear you are ill of an ague. Everything we meet with here, is only to fit us more and more for a blessed hereafter. Christ is the believer’s hollow square; and if we keep close in that, we are impregnable. Here only I find my refuge. Garrisoned in this, I can bid defiance to men and devils. O, my dear sir, what did I experience on the road this day! How did I rejoice at the prospect of a judgment to come, and in the settled conviction that I have no designs but to spend and be spent for the good of precious and immortal souls. The hand of the Lord Jesus, without adding our carnal policy to it, will support His own cause. When human cunning is made use of, what is it, but, like Uzzah, to give a wrong touch to the ark of God, and to provoke God to smite us? A bigoted, sectarian, party spirit cometh not from above, but is sensual, earthly, devilish. Many of God’s children are infected with it. They are sick of a bad distemper. May the Spirit of God convince and cure them!”

On arriving at Bristol, Whitefield wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon, as follows:――

“BRISTOL, February 12, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Since I wrote last, we have been favoured both in Gloucester city, and in the country, with very pleasant and delightful seasons. I have preached about twenty times within these eight or nine days; and, though frequently exposed to rain and hail, am much better than when I left London. Everything I meet with seems to carry this voice with it,――‘Go thou and preach the gospel. Be a pilgrim on earth. Have no party, or certain dwelling-place; but be continually preparing for, and labouring to prepare others for, a house not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens.’ My heart echoes back,――‘Lord Jesus, help me to do or suffer Thy will! And, when Thou seest me in danger of nestling, in pity, put a thorn in my nest, to preserve me from it!’”

On his way to Plymouth, Whitefield held sweet intercourse with two eminently pious Dissenting ministers,――the well-known Rev. Richard Pearsall, of Taunton, and the Rev. Risdon Darracott, of Wellington. Writing to Lady Huntingdon, he said:――

“PLYMOUTH, February 25, 1750.

“The day after I wrote my last letter to your ladyship, I preached three times, once at Kingswood, and twice at Bristol. It was a blessed day. The next morning, I came on my way rejoicing. At Taunton, I met with Mr. Pearsall, a Dissenting minister, a preacher of righteousness before I was born.[269] At Wellington, I lay at the house of one Mr. Darracott, a flaming successful preacher of the gospel, and who may justly be styled, ‘the star in the West.’[270] He has suffered much reproach; and, in the space of three months, has lost three lovely children. Two of them died the Saturday evening before the sacrament was to be administered; but weeping did not hinder sowing. He preached next day, and administered as usual; and, for his three natural, the Lord has given him above thirty spiritual children. He has ventured his little all for Christ; and last week a saint died, who left him £200 in land. At his place, I began to take the field for this spring. At a very short warning, a multitude assembled. The following evening, I preached at Exeter; and last night and this morning I have preached here. This afternoon, God willing, I am to take the field again.”

Mention has been already made of Benjamin Franklin issuing his “Proposals relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania,” a step which led to the founding of the present university of Philadelphia. This was a subject in which Whitefield took a profound interest, not only because the meeting-house which had been built for himself was likely to be occupied for this purpose; but, also, because, knowing the principles of his friend Franklin, he was afraid that, in the proposed academy, religion might not occupy the position which it ought to have. Franklin had written him on the subject; and the following is the substance of his answer:――

“PLYMOUTH, February 26, 1750.

“MY DEAR MR. FRANKLIN,――I am glad that the gentlemen of Philadelphia are exerting their efforts to erect an academy. I have often thought such an institution was exceedingly wanted; and I am persuaded, if well conducted, it will be of public service. I have read your plan, and do not wonder at its meeting with general approbation. It is certainly well calculated to promote polite literature; but, I think, there wants aliquid Christi in it, to make it as useful as I would desire it might be.

“It is true you say, ‘The youth are to be taught some public religion, and the excellency of the Christian religion in particular;’ but methinks this is mentioned too late, and too soon passed over. As we are all creatures of a day, as our whole life is but one small point between two eternities, it is reasonable to suppose that the grand end of every Christian institution for forming tender minds should be to convince them of their natural depravity, of the means of recovering out of it, and of the necessity of preparing for the enjoyment of the Supreme Being in a future state. These are the grand points in which Christianity centres. Arts and sciences may be built on this, and serve to embellish the superstructure, but without this there cannot be any good foundation.

“I should be glad to contribute, though it were but the least mite, and to promote so laudable an undertaking; but the gentlemen concerned are so superior to me, in respect to knowledge of both books and men, that anything I could offer would be, I fear, of little service. The main thing will be to get proper masters, who are acquainted with the world, with themselves, and with God, and who will consequently care for the welfare of the youth that shall be committed to them. I think, also, that, in such an institution, there should be a well-approved Christian orator, who should not be content with giving a public lecture upon oratory in general, but who should visit and take pains with every class, and teach them early how to speak, and read, and pronounce well. An hour or two in a day, I think, ought to be set apart for this. It would serve as an agreeable amusement, and would be of great service, whether the youth be intended for the pulpit, the bar, or any other profession whatsoever. I should also like the youth to board in the academy, and, by that means, to be always under the master’s eye. If a fund could be raised, for the free education of those of the poorer sort who appear to have promising abilities, I think it would greatly answer the design proposed. It has often been found, that some of our brightest men, in Church and State, have arisen from an obscure condition.

“When I heard of the academy, I told Mr. B―――― that I thought the new building[271] would admirably suit such a proposal; and I then determined to mention, in my next, some terms that might be offered to the consideration of the trustees; but I now find that you have done this already, and that matters are adjusted agreeable to the minds of the majority of them. I hope your agreement meets with the approbation of the inhabitants, and that it will be serviceable to the cause of vital piety and good education. If these ends are answered, a free school erected, the debts paid, and a place preserved for public preaching, I do not see what reason there is for anyone to complain. But all this depends on the integrity, disinterestedness, and piety of the gentlemen concerned. An institution, founded on such a basis, God will bless and succeed; but, without these, the most promising schemes will prove abortive, and the most flourishing structures turn out Babels. I wish you and the gentlemen concerned much prosperity; and pray the Lord of all lords to direct you to the best means to promote the best end; I mean the glory of God and the welfare of your fellow-creatures. Be pleased to remember me to them and to all friends as they come in your way, and believe me, dear sir,

“Yours, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

This long letter is interesting, as revealing Whitefield’s views of youthful education, and his connection with the founding of one of the oldest and most important colleges in America. It is difficult to determine whether his interest in England or in America was greater. He was a devoted lover of his native land; but he was also profoundly attached to those transatlantic colonies, which, since his day, have been developed into one of the greatest nations upon earth. On the same day that he wrote his letter to Franklin, respecting the college at Philadelphia, he also wrote to his old friend, the Honourable Jonathan Belcher, Governor of the Province of New Jersey:――

“I purpose ranging this summer, and then to embark for my beloved America. Whether I shall see your Excellency is uncertain. You are upon the decline of life; but, I trust, I shall meet you in heaven, where the wicked heart, the wicked world, and the wicked devil, will cease from troubling, and every soul enjoy an uninterrupted and eternal rest. This I am waiting for every day. O that death may find me either praying or preaching!”

Having preached twelve times, in six days, at Plymouth, Whitefield set out for Cornwall, accompanied by two clergymen, the Rev. G. Thompson, of St. Gennys, and the Rev. Mr. Grigg, who had come to Plymouth purposely to be his escort. On Sunday, the 4th of March, the church at St. Gennys presented a scene such as was not often witnessed. Whitefield writes: “Four of Mr. Wesley’s preachers were present, and also four clergymen in their gowns and cassocks――Mr. Bennet[272] (aged fourscore), Mr. Thompson, Mr. Grigg, and myself. It was a glorious day of the Son of man.”

Six days later, he wrote the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“REDRUTH, March 10, 1750.

“Every day, since I left St. Gennys, I have been travelling and preaching. At Port Isaac, the Redeemer’s stately steps were seen indeed. At Camelford, I preached with great quietness in the street. At St. Andrew’s, we had a very powerful season. Yesterday, at Redruth, several thousands attended. Invitations are sent to me from Falmouth and several other places. I want more tongues, more bodies, more souls, for the Lord Jesus. Had I ten thousand, He should have them all. After preaching, about noon I am to go to St. Ives; and, in about nine days, I hope to be at Exeter. Mr. Thompson is mighty hearty, and is gone to his parish in a gospel flame.”

The account of Whitefield’s Cornish labours is continued in another letter to her ladyship, dated “Exeter, March 21, 1750,” and in which he says:――

“Immediately after writing my last, I preached to many thousands at Gwennap. In the evening, I went to St. Ives. The next day, Sunday, March 11th, I went to church in the morning, and heard a virulent sermon from these words, ‘Beware of false prophets.’ The preacher had said, on the day before, ‘Now Whitefield is coming, I must put on my old armour.’[273] I preached twice to large auditories, and then rode back to Gwennap rejoicing. On Monday, I preached again at Redruth, at ten in the morning, to near ten thousand. Arrows of conviction seemed to fly fast. In the evening, I preached to above five hundred, at a place twelve miles distant, and then rode about sixteen miles to one Mr. B――――’s, a wealthy man, convinced about two years ago. In riding, my horse threw me violently on the ground, but I got up without receiving much hurt. The next day,” (Tuesday, March 13,) “we had a most delightful season at St. Mewan; and the day following, a like time at Port Isaac. In the evening, I met my dear Mr. Thompson, at Mr. Bennet’s, a friendly minister aged fourscore; and, on Thursday, preached in both his churches. Blessed seasons both! On Friday, we went to Bideford, where there is perhaps one of the best little flocks in all England.[274] The power of God so came down, while I was expounding to them, that Mr. Thompson could scarce stand under it. I preached twice. On Monday evening” (March 19), “I came to Exeter, and, with great regret, shall stay till Friday; for I think every day lost that is not spent in field-preaching. An unexpectedly wide door is opened in Cornwall, so that I have sometimes almost determined to go back again.”

Thus did Whitefield requite his abusive foe, the Bishop of Exeter. Lavington, in the most scurrilous language, blackguarded Whitefield and the Methodists in the notorious pamphlets which he was now writing and publishing, without having the manliness to acknowledge them as his own; and Whitefield, in return, quietly invaded the bishop’s diocese, and, from Land’s End to Exeter, tried to revive religion, where it was almost, if not entirely, dead. No wonder that the bishop raved!

After spending about a month in London, Whitefield made, what he calls, “a short elopement to Portsmouth.” His supreme work was preaching, and saving souls; but he was always ready to throw his influence and energies into any scheme that would be subsidiary to the great object of his life. For this purpose, he had erected his Orphan House in Georgia, and, as the reader has already seen, wished to have, in connection with it, an academy or college for the training of ministers. At this very time, he was taking an active interest in founding what afterwards became the university of Philadelphia. Added to all this, he now cheerily devoted himself to the establishment of a kindred institution in New Jersey. Three years ago, his friend, Jonathan Belcher, had been appointed the governor of that province. The governor was an aged man, in his seventieth year; but, before he died, he wished to found a Presbyterian college for the benefit of the people whom he ruled. In 1748, he had obtained a royal charter from George II., but, to carry out his purpose, he needed money. To collect this, Mr. Allen and Colonel Williams had come to England, bringing letters of introduction from Governor Belcher and the Rev. Aaron Burr, who had been elected president of the New College. Whitefield presented these gentlemen to the Countess of Huntingdon. A statement of Belcher’s scheme, with a recommendation of it, was printed, and signed by her ladyship, Whitefield, Dr. Doddridge, and others. Whitefield preached sermons for the college; and, in the course of a few months, considerable sums were collected, and transmitted to America.[275] To illustrate Whitefield’s interest in this important matter, two extracts from his letters may be useful, while at Portsmouth, he wrote to Governor Belcher, as follows:――

“PORTSMOUTH, April 27, 1750.

“I am glad your Excellency has been honoured, by Providence, to put New Jersey College on such a footing, that it may be a nursery for future labourers. I have had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Allen and Colonel Williams, and have introduced them to such of my friends as I believe may serve the interest in which they are engaged. By the Divine blessing, I hope that something considerable will be done in England and Scotland.”

A few days afterwards, he wrote to the Rev. Mr. McCulloch, Presbyterian minister of Cambuslang:――

“Mr. Allen, a friend of Governor Belcher, is come over with a commission to negotiate the matter concerning the Presbyterian College in New Jersey. He has brought with him a copy of the letter which Mr. Pemberton sent you some time ago. This letter has been shewn to Dr. Doddridge and several of the London ministers, who all approve of the thing, and promise their assistance. Last week, I conversed with Dr. Doddridge concerning it; and the scheme that was then judged most practicable was this――‘That Mr. Pemberton’s letter should be printed, and that a recommendation of the affair, subscribed by Dr. Doddridge and others, should be annexed; and, further, that a subscription and collections should be set on foot in England, and that afterwards Mr. Allen should go to Scotland.’ I think it is an affair that requires despatch. Governor Belcher is old, but a most hearty man for promoting God’s glory, and the good of mankind. He looks upon the College as his own daughter, and will do all he can to endow her with proper privileges. The present president, Mr. Burr,[276] and most of the trustees, I am well acquainted with. They are friends to vital piety; and, I trust, this work of the Lord will prosper in their hands. The spreading of the gospel in Maryland and Virginia, in a great measure, depends on it.”

Thus, in more respects than one, was America greatly indebted to the English Whitefield. The effects of his services on behalf of that country cannot be estimated.

After a few days spent at Portsmouth, Whitefield returned to London, and then, early in the month of May, set out on his northern tour. On Sunday, May 6th, he preached twice, to great multitudes, at Olney. On the day following, he rode to Northampton, and “had a private interview” with Dr. Stonehouse, Dr. Doddridge, the Rev. James Hervey, and the Rev. Thomas Hartley.[277] On Tuesday, the 8th, he preached, in the morning, “to Dr. Doddridge’s family;” and, in the afternoon, to above two thousand in a field, his friends, with whom he had held “a private interview,” to his great gratification, walking with him along the street. After preaching twice, “to several thousands,” at Kettering, he made his way to Ashby, the country residence of the Countess of Huntingdon. Here he remained for above a week, preaching daily in the house of her ladyship, and also in four neighbouring churches. Resuming his journey, on May 20, he preached four times at Nottingham, where, says he, “several came to me, enquiring what they should do to be saved. One evening, Lord S―――― and several gentlemen were present, and behaved with great decency. Many thousands attended.” He also preached at Sutton; thrice at Mansfield; and, on May 25, arrived at Rotherham, where he met with an adventure worth relating. In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, dated “Leeds, May 30, 1750,” he writes:――

“Satan rallied his forces at Rotherham;[278] but I preached twice, on the Friday evening and Saturday morning. The crier was employed to give notice of a bear-baiting. Your ladyship may guess who was the bear. About seven in the morning, the drum was heard, and several watermen attended it with great staves. The constable was struck, and two of the mobbers were apprehended, but were rescued afterwards. I preached on these words, ‘Fear not, little flock.’ They were both fed and feasted. After a short stay, I left Rotherham, when I knew it was become more pacific.[279]

“In the evening, I preached at Sheffield, where the people received the word gladly. A great alteration was discernible in their looks, since I was there last.[280] On Sunday, great multitudes attended, and, in the evening, many went away, who could not get near enough to hear. On Monday, we had a parting blessing; and, in the evening, the Lord Jesus fed us plentifully, with the bread that cometh down from heaven, at Barley Hall.

“Last night, I preached in Leeds, to many, many thousands; and this morning also, at five o’clock. Methinks, I am now got into another climate. It must be a warm one, where there are so many of God’s people. Our Pentecost is to be kept at Mr. Grimshaw’s. I have seen him and Mr. Ingham.”

Concerning the “Pentecost” kept at Haworth, on Sunday, June 3rd, no record has been preserved, except a mere notice, which will be found in a subsequent letter. The reader must imagine the great preacher, standing on his temporary scaffold, by the side of Grimshaw’s church, with thousands upon thousands listening to his impassioned eloquence, and the surrounding hills and dales echoing with his unequalled voice.

Leaving Haworth, Whitefield proceeded to Manchester, where he wrote, as follows, to Lady Gertrude Hotham, daughter of the Earl of Chesterfield, and wife of Sir Charles Hotham, Bart:――

“MANCHESTER, June 8, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Thousands and thousands, for some time past, have flocked to hear the word twice every day, and the power of God has attended it in a glorious manner. I left good Lady Huntingdon, some time ago, weak in body, but strong in the grace which is in Christ Jesus. The good people of Ashby were so kind as to mob round her ladyship’s door, whilst the gospel was being preached. Alas! how great and irreconcilable is the enmity of the serpent! This is my comfort――the seed of the woman shall be more than conqueror over all. I hope your ladyship, every day, experiences more and more of this conquest in your heart. This is the Christian’s daily employ and daily triumph――to die to self and sin, and to rise more and more into the image of the blessed Jesus. As it is our duty, so it is our unspeakable privilege.”

From Manchester, Whitefield set out on a tour through what was called “Ingham’s Circuit,” a large mountainous tract of country where Ingham had preached with great success, and had founded Societies. The following, addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon, will give the reader an idea of Whitefield’s labours:――

“NEWBY-COTE, June 16, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Blessed be God! I have still good news to send your ladyship. All was quiet at Manchester; and, I humbly hope, the Redeemer will gather to Himself a people there.[281] Kind Captain Galatin and his lady will acquaint you with particulars. I hope he will prove a good soldier of Jesus Christ. We had sweet seasons at places adjacent to Manchester. Only, at Bolton, a drunkard stood up to preach behind me; and a woman attempted twice to stab the person who was putting up a stand, for me to preach on, in her husband’s field. Since that, we have had very large and powerful meetings, where formerly were the most violent outrages.[282] Perhaps, within these three weeks, sixty thousand souls have heard the gospel. I am now in Mr. Ingham’s circuit, and purpose being at Kendal next Thursday.”

To this Whitefield appends the following postscript:――

“June 17th, seven in the morning. Last night Satan shewed his teeth. Some persons got into the barn and stable, and cut my chaise, and one of the horse’s tails. What would men do, if they could?”

Whitefield arrived at Kendal four days after this, where he wrote the following to his friend Hervey:――

“KENDAL, June 21, 1750.

“REV. AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I arrived at Kendal this morning, where I shall preach this evening. An entrance is now made into Westmoreland. Pen cannot well describe the glorious scenes that have opened in Yorkshire, etc. Perhaps, since I saw you, seventy or eighty thousand have attended the word preached, in divers places. At Haworth, on Whit-Sunday, the church was almost thrice filled with communicants; and, at Kirby-Stephen, the people behaved exceedingly well.

“In my way, I have read Mr. Law’s second part of ‘The Spirit of Prayer.’ His scheme about the fall is quite chimerical; but he says many noble things. The sun has its spots, and so have the best of men. I want to see my own faults more, and those of others less. It will be so, when I am more humble. If mercies would make a creature humble, I should be a mirror of humility. But I am far from the mind that was in Jesus. You must pray, while I go on fighting. Next week, I hope to reach Edinburgh. You shall have notice of my return. Glad shall I be to meet such a friend upon the road.”

On the same day, he wrote to the Rev. William Baddiley, domestic chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon. Mr. Baddiley was now in London, and his place at Ashby was supplied by the Rev. Charles Caspar Graves and the Rev. Mr. Simpson, the former a brave-hearted Oxford Methodist, who, in 1742, had accompanied Charles Wesley to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and helped him in forming the Methodist Society in that important town, and who, in the year following, preached, for months, among the almost incarnate fiends in Wednesbury, and in other parishes adjacent, but who now had a church not far from Lady Huntingdon’s country residence. Mr. Simpson, also, was one of the Oxford Methodists, and had been ordained, and presented to a living of considerable value in Leicestershire. This, however, he resigned, and, having left the Church of England, was now a Moravian minister at Ockbrook.

“KENDAL, June 21, 1750.

“REV. AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I am glad you have sounded the silver trumpet in London. ‘Crescit eundo’ must be your motto and mine. There is nothing like keeping the wheels oiled by action. The more we do, the more we may do; every act strengthens the habit; and the best preparation for preaching on Sundays, is to preach every day in the week.

“I am glad there is peace at Ashby. What a fool is Satan always to overshoot his mark! I hope Mr. Graves, as well as Mr. Simpson, will hold on. They will be glorious monuments of free grace. I am like-minded with you in respect to Dr. Doddridge’s Commentary. He is a glorious writer. May the Lord Jesus strengthen him to finish the work!

“My dear Mr. Baddiley, what blessed opportunities do you enjoy for meditation, study, and prayer! Now is your time to get rich in grace. Such an example, and such advantages, no one in England is favoured with but yourself. I do not envy you. I am called forth to battle. O remember a poor cowardly soldier, and pray that I may have the honour to die fighting. I would have all my scars in my breast. I would not be wounded running away, or skulking into a hiding-place. It is not for ministers of Christ to flee, or be afraid.”

Five days afterwards, Whitefield wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“KENDAL, June 26, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Still the Lord vouchsafes to prosper the gospel plough. Such an entrance has been made into Kendal, as could not have been expected. I preached twice, to several thousands, last week; and the people were so importunate, that I was prevailed on to return last night. The congregation was greatly increased, and the power of the Lord was displayed in the midst of them.

“Last Saturday evening, and on the Lord’s-day, I preached at Ulverstone. There Satan made some resistance. A clergyman, who looked more like a butcher than a minister, came with two others, and charged a constable with me; but I never saw a poor creature sent off in such disgrace. I believe good was done in the town. How I am to succeed at Whitehaven, your ladyship shall know hereafter. I hear Mr. Wesley has been much abused in Ireland, but that the mayor of Cork has quite overshot himself. I have some thoughts of seeing Ireland before my return.”[284]

Whitefield reached Edinburgh on Friday, July 6th, having preached, since he left London, two months before, above ninety times, and, as he estimated, to a hundred and forty thousand people. He, at once, commenced preaching in his open-air cathedral, the Orphan Hospital Park;[285] and, on July 12th, wrote, as follows, to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“Though I am burning with a fever, and have a violent cold, I must send your ladyship a few lines. They bring good news. People flock rather more than ever, and earnestly entreat me not to leave them soon. I preach generally twice a day,――early in the morning, and at six in the evening. Great multitudes attend. Praise the Lord, O my soul! Mr. Nimmo and his family are in the number of those who are left in Sardis, and have not defiled their garments. Your ladyship’s health is drunk every day.”

James Nimmo, Esq., Receiver-General of the Excise, was connected with some of the first families in Scotland. His mother was a daughter of Henry, Lord Cardross. His wife, Lady Jane Hume, was third daughter of the Earl of Marchmont, and sister of Hugh, fourth Earl of Marchmont, one of the executors of Pope the poet, and also of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. Mr. Nimmo’s house was Whitefield’s Edinburgh home; and, during his visit, Lady Jane Nimmo, in a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, remarked:――

“Greater crowds than ever flock to hear Mr. Whitefield. Dear Lady Frances Gardiner is very active in bringing people to hear him, to some of whom, there is reason to believe, the word has been blessed. There is a great awakening among all classes. Truth is great, and will prevail, though all manner of evil is spoken against it. The fields are more than white, and ready unto harvest, in Scotland.”[286]

Having preached twenty times in Edinburgh, Whitefield, on the 19th of July, set out for Glasgow,[287] where, on the 23rd, he wrote:――

“Friends here received me most kindly, and the congregations, I think, are larger than ever. Yesterday” (Sunday), “besides preaching twice in the field, I preached in the College Kirk, being forced by Mr. Gillies. It was a blessed season. I have met and shaken hands with Mr. Ralph Erskine. Oh, when shall God’s people learn war no more?”

On July 27, he returned to Edinburgh;[288] and, two days later, wrote to Lady Huntingdon:――

“No one can well describe the order, attention, and earnestness of the Scotch congregations. They are unwearied in hearing the gospel. I left thousands sorrowful at Glasgow; and here I was again most gladly received last night. By preaching always twice, and once thrice, and once four times in a day, I am quite weakened; but I hope to recruit again, and get fresh strength to work for Jesus.”

On August 3rd, Whitefield set out for London,[289] and, at Berwick, wrote again to the Countess:――

“BERWICK, August 4, 1750.

“I have taken a very sorrowful leave of Scotland. The longer I continued there, the more the congregations, and the power that attended the word, increased. I have reason to think that many are under convictions, and am assured that hundreds have received great benefit and consolation. I shall have reason to bless God to all eternity for this last visit to Scotland. Not a dog moved his tongue all the while I was there, and many enemies were glad to be at peace with me. Preaching so frequently, and paying so many religious visits, weakened me very much; but I am already better for my riding thus far. One of the ministers here has sent me an offer of his pulpit, and I hear of about ten more round the town who would do the same. I came here this evening” (Friday), “and purpose to set out for Newcastle on Monday morning.”

Such extracts as these are fragments; but, put together, they form a sort of diary, and exhibit Whitefield’s enormous labours, and his marvellous popularity and success.

When Whitefield arrived in London, Hervey had become an inmate of his house, and wrote: “Great care is taken of me. The house is very open and airy, and has no bugs, a sort of city gentry for which I have no fondness.”[290] The two friends visited Lady Gertrude Hotham, one of whose daughters was dying; and, by their joint instrumentality, the sufferer was led to the Saviour. Hervey attended Whitefield’s ministry at the Tabernacle, and speaks of him as being “in labours more abundant,” “a pattern of zeal and ministerial fidelity.”[291]

Though Whitefield had been four months from home, the time had not come for him to settle in his “winter quarters.” First of all, he ran off to Portsmouth, and was there when Miss Hotham died. At his return to London, he wrote:――

“September 14. I was received with great joy, and our Lord has manifested His glory in the great congregation. I have preached in Mr. Wesley’s chapel several times. Mr. Wesley breakfasted and prayed with me this morning; and Mr. Hervey was so kind as to come up and be with me in my house. He is a dear man; and, I trust, will yet be spared to write much for the Redeemer’s glory.”

On the same day, Charles Wesley wrote, in his Journal: “I met James Hervey at the Tabernacle, and in the fellowship of the spirit of love.”

Never since they had left Oxford had the four old friends met together till now. Fifteen years had elapsed since then,――years full of strange and unforeseen adventures.

Two other clergymen were now introduced into the circle of Whitefield’s friends.

Martin Madan,――tall in stature, robust in constitution, his countenance open and majestic, his voice musical and strong, his delivery graceful, and his language plain and nervous,――was the eldest son of Colonel Madan, and bred to the study of the law. While in a coffee-house, with some of his gay companions, he was requested to go and hear Wesley preach. He went, and, on his return to the coffee-room, was asked, “if he had taken off the old Methodist?” “No,” said the young barrister, “No, gentlemen, but he has taken me off.” From that time, he abandoned his old companions, formed an acquaintance with the Countess of Huntingdon, and embraced the truth as it is in Jesus. Possessed of a private fortune of £1800 a year, he renounced his legal profession, and was now an ordained clergyman of the Church of England. He soon became immensely popular; but ultimately died, in 1790, beneath the dark cloud of his chimerical and mischievous “Thelypthora.”

Moses Browne, afterwards well known as vicar of Olney, and chaplain of Morden College, Blackheath, had never been at either of the universities, had a large family, and a slender purse. For twenty years, he had been a constant contributor to the Gentleman’s Magazine, and had obtained some of the prizes offered by Mr. Cave for the best poems sent to that periodical. He had enjoyed the friendship of Dr. Watts, by whose kindness he was introduced to Lady Huntingdon; and, at her house, met many of the poets and literati of the day. Moses was passionately fond of dancing and of theatrical amusements; but, under the preaching of the Methodists, he had been converted, and now wanted to be a clergyman. Testimonials were signed by Hervey, Hartley, and Baddiley. Lady Huntingdon asked Hoadley, Bishop of Winchester, to ordain him; but his lordship politely refused the application. She requested the same favour of the Bishop of Worcester; and ultimately, through the interest of the Hon. Welbore Ellis, then one of the Lords of the Admiralty, ordination was obtained, and the poor poet became a successful parish priest.[292]

Both of these gentlemen are mentioned in the following letter to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, September 17, 1750.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Yesterday afternoon, I returned from Chatham, where, I think, there is as promising a work begun as almost in any part of England. Last night, the Redeemer’s glory was seen in the Tabernacle; and your ladyship’s letter revived my heart, and gave me fresh hopes for ungrateful Ashby.

“I am glad Mr. Madan is ordained; and hope Mr. Browne will be soon. I find your ladyship has acted in the affair like yourself. Mr. Browne is much for embarking in the cause of Christ, and, if the D―――― would help him at this juncture, he might be a useful and happy man. Both he and Mr. Hervey have a grateful sense of your ladyship’s great kindness. The latter, I believe, intends to winter with me in London. If possible, I will prevail on Mr. Hartley to come and pay him a visit. To-morrow morning, I set out for Gloucester, and intend coming to Birmingham, and so to your ladyship’s.”

Whitefield reached the Countess’s residence on October 4th, and remained there the next eleven days. His past and his present proceedings may be learnt by the following extracts from his letters:――

“Ashby, October 9, 1750. I am now at the house of her ladyship, with four other clergymen, who, I believe, love and preach Christ in sincerity; but Ashby people reject the kingdom of God against themselves. At Portsmouth, Chatham, Gloucestershire, Birmingham, Wednesbury, Evesham, Nottingham, etc., our infinite High Priest has given us pleasant seasons. I am now waiting every day for my wife’s being delivered of her present burden, and hope, ere long, to rejoice that a child is born into the world. O that it may be born again, and be made an heir of the Redeemer’s kingdom!”

“Ashby, October 11.” (To the Countess Delitz.) “Good Lady Huntingdon goes on acting the part of a mother in Israel more and more. For a day or two, she has had five clergymen under her roof, which makes her ladyship look like a good archbishop with his chaplains around him. Her house is indeed a Bethel. To us in the ministry, it looks like a college. We have the sacrament every morning, heavenly consolation all day, and preaching at night. This is to live at court indeed. Your ladyship, and the other elect ladies, are never forgotten by us.”

In reference to this memorable visit, the Countess of Huntingdon wrote to Lady Fanny Shirley, as follows:――

“It was a time of refreshing from the presence of our God. Several of our little circle have been wonderfully filled with the love of God, and have had joy unspeakable and full of glory. Lady Frances” (Hastings) “is rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. It is impossible to conceive a more real happiness than she enjoys. Dear Mr. Whitefield’s sermons and exhortations were close, searching, experimental, awful, and awakening. Surely God was with him. He appeared to speak of spiritual and divine things as awful realities. Many of us could witness to the truth of what he uttered. His discourses in the neighbouring churches were attended with power from on high, and the kingdom of darkness trembled before the gospel of Christ.”[293]

On Monday, October 15, Whitefield set out for what he called his “winter quarters,” in London; but, a month afterwards, he was at Canterbury, preaching with his characteristic zest and power. Despite great opposition, one of Wesley’s Societies had been formed in this venerable city, and here Wesley himself had spent three days at the beginning of the year. Now Whitefield came, and wrote: “The work increases at Canterbury. I find several souls are awakened.”

The visit of two of the Methodist chieftains to this archiepiscopal city, in the same year, was too serious an effrontery to be allowed to pass unnoticed. The Rev. John Kirkby was rector of Blackmanstone, but a rector almost without a flock, Blackmanstone, in 1831, containing only five parishioners! Mr. Kirkby’s parochial work was――what? He had ample leisure to chastise the Methodists. Accordingly, he published an 8vo. pamphlet of fifty-five pages, with the elaborate title, “The Impostor Detected; or, the Counterfeit Saint turned inside out. Containing a full discovery of the horrid blasphemies and impieties taught by those diabolical seducers called Methodists, under colour of the only real Christianity. Particularly intended for the use of the city of Canterbury, where that ministry of iniquity has lately begun to work. By John Kirkby, Rector of Blackmanstone, in Kent. ‘By their fruits ye shall know them’ (Matt. vii. 20). London, 1750.”

Mr. Kirkby’s pamphlet was even more rancorous than its title. He could hardly have been more vulgarly abusive if, instead of Blackmanstone, he had been rector of Billingsgate.

While at Canterbury, Whitefield wrote a letter to Mr. S――――, in Ireland, which is too characteristic to be omitted.[294]

“CANTERBURY, November 20, 1750.

“MY DEAR MR. S――――, As far as I can judge of the circumstances you related to me, settling, as you propose, would not hinder, but rather further, you in your present work. Only beware of nestling. If you do, and God loves you, you shall have thorns enough put into your nest. O that I may be enabled, even to the end, to evidence that nothing but a pure disinterested love to Christ and souls caused me to begin, go on, and hold out, in pursuing the present work of God! I have seen so many who once bid exceedingly fair, and afterwards, Demas-like, preferred the world to Christ, that I cannot be too jealous over myself, or others whom I profess to love. This is my motive in writing to you. O let no one take away your crown. If you marry, let it be in the Lord, and for the Lord, and then the Lord will give it His blessing. Only remember this, marry when or whom you will, expect trouble in the flesh. But I spare you. Seven years hence, if we should live and meet, we can talk better of these things. Meanwhile, let us go on leaning on our Beloved. He, and He alone, can keep us unspotted from the world.”

Shortly after this, Whitefield had a serious illness, which he called a “violent fever,” and which kept him confined to his room nearly a fortnight. As soon as he was able, he resumed his preaching, and also his correspondence. To one of his friends, he wrote: “December 17th. Yesterday, I entered upon my seven-and-thirtieth year. I am ashamed to think I have lived so long, and done so little.” To another: “December 21. I have been near the gates of death, which has hindered my answering your kind letter as soon as I proposed. I shall be glad to know your friend’s answer about Georgia. If the Lord raises up a solid, heavenly-minded, learned young man for a tutor, I shall be glad. Nothing, I believe, but sickness or death, will prevent my going over next year. Methinks the winter is long. I want to take the field again.”

Whitefield longed to be in America; and, notwithstanding past revivals, America was in need of him. Hence the following extract from a hitherto unpublished letter, kindly lent by Mr. Stampe, of Grimsby:――

“PHILADELPHIA, December 15, 1750.

“REVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,――Religion, at present, is very low in general in this country. A great deadness prevails, and few appear to be converted; but the Church of Christ, I trust, is, in some measure, edified by the word of God. We wish and hope for better times. I am glad that you are able to continue your itinerancy, and that with such encouragement and success. May your life and labours be long continued, and be blessed to the great increase of Christ’s kingdom on earth, and the brightening of your own crown in heaven!

“I am much obliged to you, dear sir, for the hope you gave me, in a letter I received from you, of doing something among your friends to assist us in completing the new house of public worship, which we are erecting. Some time ago, I told you of the difficult and necessitous state of our case; and I may now add, that we are likely to lose many hundreds of pounds that were promised. This is very discouraging. However, we have got the house covered, and hope to have the pleasure of hearing you preach in it next fall. Dear sir, as I know your hearty good-will towards the interests of religion in general, and towards us in particular, I cannot but believe that you will compassionate us, and will use your best endeavours for us, I forbear incitements to a mind that needs them not. I salute yourself and your consort with cordial respect; and remain yours as formerly,

“GILBERT TENNENT.”

Whitefield was always ready to assist his friends, both at home and abroad. Just at this juncture, Moses Browne, with his large family, was in pecuniary embarrassment. Lady Fanny Shirley took great interest in his case, and applied to the Duchess of Somerset[295] and others to afford him help.[296] Whitefield refers to this in the following letter to Lady Fanny:――

“LONDON, December 25, 1750.

“HONOURED MADAM,――Poor Mr. Browne is much obliged to your ladyship for speaking in his behalf. He happened to be with me when your ladyship’s letter came. The reception your kind motion met with, convinces me more and more that, ‘Be ye warmed, and be ye filled,’ without giving anything to be warmed and filled with, is the farthest that most professors go. Words are cheap, and cost nothing. I often told the poor man that his dependence was too strong, and that I was afraid help would not come from the quarter where he most expected. He sends ten thousand thanks for what your ladyship has done already. Surely he is worthy. He is a lover of Christ, and his outward circumstances are very pitiable. Your ladyship will not be offended at the liberty I take. You love to help the distressed to the utmost of your power; and your ladyship shall find that good measure, pressed down and running over, shall be returned into your bosom.”

To Whitefield, the year 1751 opened sadly. It is true, he speaks of having had “Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” in London, and of many being awakened to a consciousness of their sins and danger; but his own health was shaken, his wife was “expecting an hour of travail,” and death was entering the mansion of the Countess of Huntingdon. During the whole of December, the Countess had been dangerously ill; and, at the beginning of 1751, her health declined so rapidly, that Whitefield was requested to hasten to Ashby with all the speed he could. He obeyed the summons; but, before his arrival, death had claimed a victim,――not, however, Whitefield’s honoured patroness; she was spared to the Church and the world forty years longer; but Lady Frances Hastings, sister of her late husband, was taken to the rest of the righteous; and Lady Selina, the Countess’s daughter, was extremely ill, though slowly recovering from a fever. Extracts from two of Whitefield’s letters will tell all that it is needful to relate:――

“Ashby, January 29, 1751. I rode post to Ashby, not knowing whether I should see good Lady Huntingdon alive. Blessed be God! she is somewhat better. Entreat all our friends to pray for her. Her sister-in-law, Lady Frances Hastings, lies dead in the house. She was a retired Christian, lived silently, and died suddenly, without a groan. May my exit be like hers! Whether right or not, I cannot help wishing that I may go off in the same manner. To me it is worse than death, to live to be nursed, and see friends weeping about one. Sudden death is sudden glory. But all this must be left to our heavenly Father.”

Strangely enough, Whitefield’s wish, so often uttered, was literally fulfilled. To Lady Mary Hamilton, Whitefield wrote:――

“Ashby, January 30, 1751. I found good Lady Huntingdon very sick, though, I trust, not unto death. The death of Lady Frances was a translation. Almost all the family have been sick. Lady Selina has had a fever, but is better. Lady Betty is more affected than ever I saw her. Lady Ann bears up pretty well, but Miss Wheeler is inconsolable. It is a house of mourning; that is better than a house of feasting. The corpse is to be interred on Friday” (February 1) “evening. May all who follow it, look and learn! I mean learn to live, and learn to die.”

Whitefield remained some days after the funeral, and then returned to London, where, to use his own expression, his wife was “exceeding bad.” Three weeks afterwards, he wrote the following to Lady Huntingdon; but makes no mention, in any of his letters, of the accouchement of his wife. It is probable, that, like her last, the present child was dead:――

“LONDON, February 26, 1751.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――It would rejoice your ladyship to see what has been doing here. I have not known a more considerable awakening for a long time. The Lord comes down as in the days of old, and the shout of a king is amongst us. Praise the Lord, O my soul! To-morrow, I purpose to leave London; but whether the rain and wind will permit me is uncertain. At present, I am feverish, by my late hurry and fatigue.

“Underneath your ladyship are the everlasting arms. You cannot sink with such a prop. He is faithful, who has promised, that we shall not be tempted above what we are able to bear. This is my daily support. To explain God’s providence by His promise, and not His promise by His providence, I find is the only way both to get and to keep our comforts.”

Whitefield was detained in London a few days longer; but, early in the month of March, set out for Bristol, where the Countess of Huntingdon was then staying for the benefit of her health.

Hervey’s health was such that he was unable to accompany his friend; and, hence, Whitefield applied to the Rev. Thomas Hartley, and, as a persuasion to come, told him that the Countess would be benefited by his visit, he would have access to some of the Bristol pulpits, and, perhaps, would “catch some great fish in the gospel net.”[297]

After about a fortnight’s stay in Bristol, he started for Plymouth, preaching at Taunton and Wellington on his way. On his return, he wrote to Hervey, dating his letter, “Exeter, April 11, 1751.” He tells the amiable invalid that he would count it “a great honour and privilege” to have him as his guest for the remainder of his life. During the last month, he had had “some trying exercises;” but he had “preached about forty times,” and, in several instances, had ridden forty miles a day. He had been among Hervey’s old friends at Bideford; and had been blessed with “sweet seasons at Plymouth.”

It is impossible to determine what were the “trying exercises,” which Whitefield mentions. One was the affliction of his wife. Perhaps, another was occasioned by the insertion of a letter in the Gentleman’s Magazine, proposing that, because “Whitefield preached that man, the chief work of God in this lower world, by nature is half brute and half devil,” the following lines should be inscribed on the door of Whitefield’s house, and should not be removed until he “recanted his shocking account of human nature, and declared that man is the offspring of God, and formed by nature to approve and love what is just and good”:――

“Here lives one by nature half brute and half devil. Avoid him, ye wise, though he speak kind and civil. The devil can seem like an angel of light, And dogs look demure, the better to bite.”

It is rather surprising that a squib so paltry was admitted into Mr. Cave’s respectable magazine; and yet it gave birth to a controversy, in that periodical, which lasted until the month of October next ensuing, not fewer than six different articles, for and against, being published on the subject.

Probably, another cause of Whitefield’s “trying exercises” was the publication, about this period, of the third part of Lavington’s “Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared,” an 8vo. volume of four hundred and twenty pages. This was the bishop’s big gun, pointed at Wesley almost altogether, but discharging a few stray shots at Whitefield. It was not pleasant, for instance, to find the author perverting Whitefield’s honest acknowledgment of the errors into which he had unwittingly fallen, by declaring, “Whitefield has confessed that he has imposed upon the world by many untruths” (p. 263). Whitefield never confessed anything of the sort; and Dr. Lavington, Bishop of Exeter, knew, when he wrote these words, that he himself was writing an untruth.

Lampoons, and episcopal mendacity like this, were, without doubt, annoying. It was also a matter of profound grief, that, in the bulky volume just mentioned, his friend Wesley should be made the butt of all the sneering sarcasm which Lavington could bring to bear against him. There were likewise other annoyances, as may be gathered from the title of a pamphlet of sixteen pages, which was at this time published: “A Vindication of the Methodists and Moravians from an Assertion in a Sermon lately printed. Also some Thoughts on the Latter Times.” The “Assertion” was, that, at least, some of the Methodists and Moravians were endeavouring “to encourage and increase the Romish religion;” that it was certain that Methodism and Moravianism would “at last issue in Popery;” and that some of the present preachers would be employed in spreading it “both here, and in all our colonies and plantations abroad.” The author of the pamphlet did his best to vindicate Whitefield and his friends; but he was so full of millenarianism, that his defence was worthless, and, instead of serving the Methodists, was likely to injure them.

In the midst of all this worry and vexation, Whitefield found comfort and cause of exultation in a fact which ought to have augmented the severity of his “trying exercises:” slavery was authorised in Georgia! Read in the light of the last hundred years, the following letter, addressed to a minister in America, is, to say the least, a curious production:――

“BRISTOL, March 22, 1751.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――My wife has been in pitiable circumstances for some time. The Lord only knows what will be the issue of them. This is my comfort, ‘All things work together for good to those that love God.’ He is the Father of mercies, and the God of all consolation. He can bring light out of darkness, and cause the barren wilderness to smile.

“This will be verified in Georgia. Thanks be to God! that the time for favouring that colony seems to be come. Now is the season for us to exert ourselves to the utmost for the good of the poor Ethiopians. We are told, that, even they are soon to stretch out their hands unto God. And who knows but that their being settled in Georgia maybe over-ruled for this great end?

“As to the lawfulness of keeping slaves, I have no doubt, since I hear of some that were bought with Abraham’s money, and some that were born in his house. I, also, cannot help thinking, that some of those servants mentioned by the apostles, in their epistles, were or had been slaves. It is plain that the Gibeonites were doomed to perpetual slavery; and, though liberty is a sweet thing to such as are born free, yet to those who never knew the sweets of it, slavery perhaps may not be so irksome.

“However this be, it is plain to a demonstration, that hot countries cannot be cultivated without negroes. What a flourishing country might Georgia have been, had the use of them been permitted years ago! How many white people have been destroyed for want of them, and how many thousands of pounds spent to no purpose at all! Had Mr. Henry been in America, I believe he would have seen the lawfulness and necessity of having negroes there. And, though it is true that they are brought in a wrong way from their native country, and it is a trade not to be approved of, yet, as it will be carried on whether we will or not, I should think myself highly favoured if I could purchase a good number of them, to make their lives comfortable, and lay a foundation for breeding up their posterity in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

“You know, dear sir, that I had no hand in bringing them into Georgia. Though my judgment was for it, and so much money was yearly spent to no purpose, and I was strongly importuned thereto, yet I would have no negro upon my plantation, till the use of them was publicly allowed in the colony. Now this is done, let us reason no more about it, but diligently improve the present opportunity for their instruction. The Trustees favour it, and we may never have a like prospect. It rejoiced my soul, to hear that one of my poor negroes in Carolina was made a brother in Christ. How know we but we may have many such instances in Georgia before long? By mixing with your people, I trust many of them will be brought to Jesus; and this consideration, as to us, swallows up all temporal inconveniences whatsoever.”

Whitefield’s letter is a distracting compound of good and evil principles. Probably it will lower his character in the estimation of not a few who read it. Be it so. The letter exists, and it would not be honest to withhold it.

From April 11th, to May 24th, when he arrived in Dublin, nothing is known of Whitefield’s work, except that, on leaving Exeter, he passed through Wales, and that, “in about three weeks,” he “rode above five hundred miles, and generally preached twice a day, and that his congregations were as large as usual.”[298] At Dublin, he became the guest of Mr. Lunell, the banker. The following extracts from his letters will furnish an idea of his work in Ireland:――

“DUBLIN, June 1, 1751.

“After being about five days on the water, I arrived here on the 24th ult. I have now preached fourteen times. Congregations are large, and hear as for eternity. Last Lord’s-day, upwards of ten thousand attended. It much resembled a Moorfields auditory. I lodge at a banker’s, a follower of Christ.”

On Monday, June 4th, Whitefield set out for Athlone, and thence proceeded to Limerick and Cork. To Lady Huntingdon he wrote as follows:――

“Athlone, June 10. As the weather grows warmer, my body grows weaker, and my vomitings follow me continually. For this week past, I have been preaching twice almost every day in country towns; and yesterday, I sounded the gospel-trumpet here. Everywhere there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones. Through the many offences that have been lately given, matters were brought to a low ebb; but the cry now is, ‘Methodism is revived again.’”[299]

A week later he says:――

“Limerick, June 14. At Athlone, I preached four times, and last night was gladly received here at Limerick. Everywhere, our Lord has vouchsafed us His blessed presence. This supports me under the heat of the weather, the weakness of my body, and the various trials which exercise my mind.”

In other letters to Lady Huntingdon, he wrote:――

“Cork, June 19. Since my last from Athlone, I have been at Limerick, where I preached seven times to large and affected auditories. Yesterday, I came to Cork, the seat of the late persecution. I have preached twice, to a great body of people, with all quietness. Both the mayor and sheriff have forbidden all mobbing. Now have the people of God rest. Next week, I shall return to Dublin.

“Dublin, June 28. My last, from Cork, informed your ladyship of my having preached twice in that city. From thence, I went to Bandon and Kinsale, where a like blessing attended the word. At my return to Cork, I preached five or six times more, and, every time, the power of the word and the number of hearers increased. On Sunday evening, there might be more than three thousand people present. Hundreds prayed for me when I took my leave; and many of the papists said, if I would stay, they would leave their priests. After preaching twice in the way, I came here on Wednesday evening, where I have again published the everlasting gospel. Next Monday, I set out for Belfast.

“Belfast, July 7, Sunday. On Wednesday evening, I came hither, and intended immediately to embark for Scotland, but the people prevailed on me to stay. In about an hour’s time, thousands were gathered to hear the word. I preached morning and evening; and, since then, have preached at Lisburn, Lurgan, the Maize, and Lambeg, towns and places adjacent. So many attend, and the prospect of doing good is so promising, that I am grieved I did not come to the north sooner. The country round about is like Yorkshire in England, and quite different from the most southern parts of Ireland. I am now waiting for a passage to Scotland. From thence your ladyship shall hear from me again.”

This was enormous labour for a man in feeble health; but Whitefield loved his work, and that helped to make hard things easy.

It is only fair to add, that, except at Belfast and the adjacent towns, Whitefield was treading in the steps of his old friend Wesley. At Dublin, Wesley had had a Society since 1747. He had preached at Athlone with great success as early as 1748. He had a Society in Limerick in 1749. Methodism in Cork has been already noticed. At Bandon, Wesley speaks of having had “by far the largest congregations he had seen in Ireland.” And, at Kinsale, he had preached in the Exchange, “to a few gentry, many poor people, and abundance of soldiers.”[300]

The following hitherto unpublished letter,[301] by Whitefield’s wife, belongs to this period. It was addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon.

“LONDON, July 13, 1751.

“HONOURED MADAM,――I am almost ashamed to write to your ladyship now; but have not been able to write sooner. I have been so ill since I came home, that Dr. Lobb and Dr. Nisbett have attended me, more or less, ever since. I was in bed when I received your ladyship’s letter, and was not able to read it. I had a pleuritic fever, and was so low that the doctor durst not bleed me. I am glad to hear, by Mr. Smith, that your ladyship is so well. God be praised! O may the good Lord give your ladyship a prosperous soul in a healthy body, to His own glory, and the good of very many poor souls!

“Your ladyship has heard of God’s goodness to my dear honoured master in Ireland. A gentleman writes me thus: ‘Dear Mr. Whitefield has left Dublin very sorrowful. His going away is lamented by many of all denominations,’ etc., etc. My master left Dublin on the 2nd inst.; but I have not heard from him since the 22nd of June. Here are letters from Georgia, bringing good and bad news; the good, they are all well; the bad, they run him behind very much. But all is well. The Lord has been and is exceedingly good to us at the poor Tabernacle, and lets it often be filled with His glory. O, dear madam, what am I, and what my father’s house, that I am so highly favoured to be called a child of God! Oh, to be a child! Dear, dear madam, I am almost lost in thought. What! to have the great Jehovah, the God of heaven and earth, to be my Father; to make my bed in my sickness; to be afflicted in all my affliction; to support me in and under all my trials and temptations, and to make His abode with me! Thinking of this has sometimes been too much for my weak nature to bear. Oh for the time when we shall be dissolved, and be for ever with the Lord!

“I hope your ladyship will excuse the length of this; but I could not help it. I have not been able to write to or see the Countess Delitz, or any friend; but hope to get strength. I beg a share in your ladyship’s prayers; and hope this will find your ladyship, Lady Betty, and Lady Selina in health of body and soul, rejoicing in the Lord. This is and shall be the prayer of, honoured madam, your ladyship’s most obliged and dutiful servant, in our dear Lord Jesus,

“E. WHITEFIELD.”

A beautiful letter, and worthy of the woman who had the honour to be the wife of Whitefield. Her husband arrived at Glasgow on Wednesday, July 10th;[302] and, two days afterwards, wrote as follows, to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“GLASGOW, July 12, 1751.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――My last was from Belfast, where I preached twice on yesterday sevennight, and immediately after took shipping, and arrived the next evening at Irvine. At the desire of the magistrates, I preached to a great congregation. Since then, I have been preaching twice a day in this city. Thousands attend every morning and evening. Though I preached near eighty times in Ireland, and God was pleased to bless His word, yet Scotland seems to be a new world to me. To see the people bring so many Bibles, and turn to every passage, when I am expounding, is very encouraging. My body is kept pretty healthy, and my voice greatly strengthened.”

Having reached Edinburgh on Thursday, July 18th, he wrote again to Lady Huntingdon:――

“EDINBURGH, July 30, 1751.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――I think it a long time since I last wrote your ladyship. Continual preaching twice a day, and paying and receiving visits, quite prevented me putting pen to paper as I would have done. The parting at Glasgow was very sorrowful. Numbers set out from the country, to hear the word, by three or four o’clock in the morning. Congregations here increase greatly. I now preach twice daily to many thousands. Many of the best rank attend. My body is almost worn out. I have been to Musselburgh, to see Captain Galatin and his lady. They hold on. Mr. Wesley has been there, and intends setting up Societies, which I think imprudent.”

Whitefield left Edinburgh on August 6th, and at Kendal, on his way to London, wrote to her ladyship again:――

“KENDAL, August 10, 1751.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――The longer I stayed at Edinburgh, the more eagerly both rich and poor attended on the word preached. For near twenty-eight days, in Glasgow and Edinburgh, I preached to near ten thousand souls every day. Ninety-four pounds were collected for the Edinburgh orphans, and I heard of seven or eight students, awakened about ten years ago, who are likely to turn out excellent preachers. To the Lord of all lords be all the glory! I am now on my way to London, in order to embark for America. I threw up much blood in Edinburgh, but riding recruits me.”

For the present, Whitefield’s work in England was nearly ended. On August 29, he went on board the Antelope, bound for Georgia with Germans, and took several destitute children with him. “Parting seasons,” said he, “have been to me dying seasons. They have broken my very heart; but it is for Jesus, and, therefore, all is well.”

It was fortunate that he got away. Without this, he probably would have died. The man was fast becoming a sort of religious suicide. Humanly speaking, his voyage to America saved, or rather prolonged, his life. On August 30th, his intimate friend, Robert Cruttenden, in a letter to the wife of Dr. Doddridge, wrote: “Yesterday I took leave of Mr. Whitefield, who is embarked for America, with little prospect of my ever seeing him again. His constitution is quite worn out with labour.”[303]

FOURTH VISIT TO AMERICA, AND RETURN TO ENGLAND.

SEPTEMBER 1751 TO MARCH 1754.

WHITEFIELD’S sojourn in America was of short duration. He landed in October, 1751, and seven months afterwards was again in England. His time on land seems to have been spent chiefly in Georgia and South Carolina. Very little, however, is known of his proceedings. There was urgent need to recruit his health. His business affairs, also, required attention. Still, he preached, at least, occasionally. With him, preaching was almost an element of life. His departure from England was abrupt; and his return was unexpected. All that is known of his brief visit is contained in half a dozen letters.

On October 6th, when within a few hundred miles of America, he wrote, almost impatiently:――

“O that I could do something to promote the glory of God! Alas! alas! how little have I done! My sluggish soul, stir up, and exert thyself for Jesus!”

In a letter, dated “Bethesda, in Georgia, November 20th, 1751,” he says:――

“Blessed be God! I found the children at the Orphan House much improved in learning; and I hope a foundation is now laid for a useful seminary.”

In another, dated “Charleston, December 26th,” he writes:――

“What mercies, signal mercies, has the Lord Jesus conferred on you and me! What shall we render unto the Lord? Shall we not give Him our whole hearts? O let His love constrain us to a holy, universal, cheerful obedience to all His commands. I am now returning to the Orphan House, which I trust will be like the burning bush. My poor labours are accepted here. In the spring, I purpose going to the Bermudas. Jesus is very good to me. Help me to praise Him.”

To Mr. Lunell, of Dublin, he wrote:――

“BETHESDA, January, 25, 1752.

“VERY DEAR SIR,――Man appoints, but God disappoints. Though we missed seeing each other on earth, yet, if Jesus Christ be our life, we shall meet in the kingdom of heaven. Your kind letter found me employed for the fatherless in this wilderness. I am now almost ready to enter upon my spring campaign. The news from Ireland does not at all surprise me. Weak minds soon grow giddy with power; and then they become pests, instead of helps, to the Church of God.”

To his friend Hervey, Whitefield addressed the following:――

“CHARLESTON, February, 1, 1752.

“The Orphan House is in a flourishing way; and, I hope, will yet become a useful seminary. My poor labours, in this place, meet with acceptance. After one more trip to Georgia, I purpose setting out upon my spring campaign. I wish Lisbon may be blessed to Dr. Doddridge. O, how I wish that dear Dr. Stonehouse was fully employed in preaching the everlasting gospel! I hope you both see our good Lady Huntingdon frequently. I was rejoiced to hear, from my dear yoke-fellow, that her ladyship was bravely.”

Dr. Doddridge had embarked, for Lisbon, a month after Whitefield embarked for America. For three months past, he had been in heaven. Immediately after writing the foregoing letter, Whitefield became acquainted with the fact. Hence the following:――

“CHARLESTON, February 5, 1752.

“Part of your first letter――I mean that respecting the Tabernacle House――gave me uneasiness; but your last removed it, and made me thankful to our Redeemer, who, in spite of all opposition, will cause His word to run and be glorified. Poor Mr. Wesley is striving against the stream.[304] Strong assertions will not go for proofs, with those who are sealed by the Holy Spirit even to the day of redemption. They know that the covenant of grace is not built upon the faithfulness of a poor fallible, changeable creature, but upon the never-failing faithfulness of an unchangeable God. This is the foundation whereon I build. ‘Lord Jesus, I believe, help my unbelief! Having once loved me, Thou wilt love me to the end. Thou wilt keep that safe, which I have committed unto Thee. Establish Thy people more and more in this glorious truth; and grant that it may have this blessed effect upon us all, that we may love Thee more, and serve Thee better!’ All truths, unless productive of holiness and love, are of no avail. They may float upon the surface of the understanding; but this is to no purpose, unless they transform the heart. I trust, the dear Tabernacle preachers will always have this deeply impressed upon their minds. Let us not dispute, but love. Truth is great, and will prevail. I am quite willing that all our hearers shall hear for themselves. The spirit of Christ is a spirit of liberty. Let us look above names and parties. Let Jesus, the ever-loving, the ever-lovely Jesus, be our all in all. So that He be preached, and His Divine image stamped more and more upon people’s souls, I care not who is uppermost. I know my place, (Lord Jesus, enable me to keep it!) even to be the servant of all. I want not to have a people called after my name, and, therefore, I act as I do. The cause is Christ’s, and He will take care of it. I rejoice that you go on so well at the Tabernacle. May the shout of a king be always in the midst of you! I am apt to believe you will pray me over. But future things belong to Him, whose I am, and whom I endeavour to serve. After one more trip to the Orphan House, I purpose going northward.

“Thanks be to God! all is well at Bethesda. A most excellent tract of land is granted to me, very near the house, which, in a few years, I hope, will make a sufficient provision for it. Dr. Doddridge, I find, is gone. Lord Jesus, prepare me to follow after!”

Whitefield did not go to “the Bermudas,” nor yet “northward,” as he intended.[305] About two months after the date of the foregoing letter, he suddenly set sail for England. Why was this? Nothing has yet been published to explain it. The following letter, now for the first time printed, solves the difficulty. It was addressed, “To Mr. Blackwell, banker, in Lombard Street, London”:――

“PORTSMOUTH, May 21, 1752.

“MY DEAR MR. BLACKWELL,――I fully purposed to have written to you when I was at Charleston, in South Carolina; but my sudden resolution to embark for England prevented me. God has vouchsafed to bless me, in respect to the Orphan House, in a very unexpected manner. To put it upon a proper footing, and to apply for some privileges, before the time of the Trustees’ Charter be expired, is what has called me home so speedily. Home, did I say? I trust heaven is my home; and it is my comfort that it is not far off. Surely this body will not hold out always. Yet a little while, and our Lord will come, and take us to Himself, that where He is, there we may be also.

‘There pain and sin and sorrow cease, And all is calm and joy and peace.’

“I wish you and yours much of this heaven upon earth. Looking unto Jesus is the only way of drawing it down into our souls. Out of His fulness, we all receive grace for grace. We have an open-handed, an open-hearted Redeemer. He giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. O for power from on high to set forth the riches of redeeming love! In a few days I hope to attempt a little of this in London. I beg your prayers. I thank you heartily for all favours; and, with cordial salutations to your whole self, subscribe myself, dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“G. WHITEFIELD.”

During his absence, Whitefield’s beloved mother had exchanged mortality for life; but this was not the reason of his sudden return to England. The affairs of his Orphan House brought him back――affairs which will often be introduced to the reader’s notice in succeeding letters.

On reaching London, one of his first efforts was to procure a minister for a Dissenting church at Charleston. On May 26th, he wrote:――

“People have received me with great affection; and I never saw the work of God go on in a more promising way. Thousands and thousands hear the word gladly.

“I wish I could send you good news about your minister; but, alas! I now almost despair of procuring one. I waited upon Dr. G―――― immediately after my arrival; but he gave me no hopes. Several of the large congregations in London, besides many more in the country, are without pastors; and are obliged to make use of our preachers. O that the Lord of the harvest may thrust out more labourers! Who can tell but some ministers may be raised up at Bethesda?

“At midsummer, the king takes Georgia into his own hands. Blessed be God! for sending me over at such a juncture. I am come to a determination, if I can dispose of Providence plantation, (in South Carolina,) to carry all my strength to the Orphan House.”

Besides endeavouring to provide a minister for Charleston, Whitefield was requested to render another service; for which he had no adaptation. His friend Hervey, who was writing “Theron and Aspasio,” sent him some of the manuscripts for his revision, at the same time promising him £30 for the purchase of a negro slave! Whitefield replied:――

“June 9, 1752.

“I have read your manuscripts; but for me to play the critic on them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. I think to call your intended purchase Weston, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the everlasting gospel.”

Having employed about a month in London, Whitefield, in the third week of June, set out for Portsmouth; and thence to Bath, where he spent about three weeks with the Countess of Huntingdon, and preached every evening to great numbers of the nobility. Here also he became acquainted with Mrs. Grinfield, a lady of high position, who attended on Queen Caroline. “The Court,” says Whitefield, “rings of her; and, if she stands, I trust she will make a glorious martyr for her blessed Lord.”[306]

Four days were employed at Bristol, where he preached nine times. He writes:――

“Very near as many as attended at Moorfields came out every evening to hear the word. I have reason to believe much good was done. Old times seemed to be revived again. The last evening, it rained a little, but few moved. I was wet, and contracted a cold and hoarseness; but I trust preaching will cure me. This is my grand catholicon.”

On July 17, Whitefield went to Wales, where he spent a fortnight, preached twenty times, and travelled about three hundred miles.

Though Whitefield had resigned his office of moderator of the Calvinistic Methodists, and though he had often declared his determination not to form a sect, he still, occasionally, attended “Associations.” Howell Harris had recently seceded from his old friends, and, in the month of April of this selfsame year, had laid the foundation of his unique establishment at Trevecca. The schism had thrown affairs into great confusion; and, perhaps, this was the reason why Whitefield attended conferences, of which, strictly speaking, he was not a member. In a letter, dated “Bristol, August 1, 1752,” he writes:――

“In my way hither, we held an Association. There were present about nine clergy, and near forty other labourers. I trust all of them are born of God, and desirous to promote His glory, and His people’s good. All was harmony and love.”

On his way back to London, he held another Association, in Gloucestershire.[307] After so many declarations that he would not attach himself to any party, Methodist or Moravian, there is considerable inconsistency in these proceedings, and the only way to explain the difficulty is to suppose, that, in the largeness of his heart, he was acting the part of a peacemaker among his old associates, and endeavouring to put an end to their hurtful strifes.

Benjamin Franklin was now acquiring a European reputation. He had satisfactorily explained the phenomena of the Leyden jar, and, in this year of 1752, had established the identity between lightning and the electric fluid. Up to the present, electricity was a science which could hardly be said to consist of more than a collection of unsystematized and ill-understood facts. Franklin’s discoveries led to remarkable results, and his fame was established. The long-continued friendship, existing between Whitefield and Franklin, was an odd incident in the great preacher’s life. In addressing Franklin, Whitefield never fawned; he was always faithful. Franklin disbelieved the chief doctrines Whitefield preached; but he respected the good intentions, the zeal, the benevolence, the honesty of the man. On his return from Wales, to London, Whitefield wrote to Franklin the following characteristic letter:――

“LONDON, August 17, 1752.

“DEAR MR. FRANKLIN,――I find that you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of electricity, I would now humbly recommend to your diligent unprejudiced pursuit and study the mystery of the new birth. It is a most important, interesting study, and, when mastered, will richly repay you for all your pains. One, at whose bar we are shortly to appear, hath solemnly declared, that, without it ‘we cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ You will excuse this freedom. I must have aliquid Christi in all my letters.

“I am yet a willing pilgrim for His great name’s sake, and I trust a blessing attends my poor feeble labours. To the giver of every good gift be all the glory! My respects await yourself and all enquiring friends; and hoping to see you once more in the land of the living, I subscribe myself, dear sir, your very affectionate friend, and obliged servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Two or three days after writing this, Whitefield set out for Scotland. On Sunday, August 23rd, he preached twice at Lutterworth, “the famous John Wycliffe’s parish.” Next day, he “began, in the name of the Almighty Husbandman, to break up fallow ground at Leicester.” Several thousands attended. Turnips were thrown at Whitefield during the first sermon; but at the second all was hushed. The next Sunday was spent at Newcastle-on-Tyne, where he preached four times, “and a shower of Divine blessing descended on the great congregations.” Early in September, he arrived at Edinburgh, where, for a fortnight, he “preached twice every day” to great multitudes of “polite as well as of common people.” He wrote, “Many young ministers and students were close attendants, and I trust good was done.” A week, also, was spent at Glasgow, where his home, for many years, was at the house of “Mr. James Niven, merchant, above the Cross.”[308] Five more days were employed in Edinburgh; and then, on October 10th,[309] he began his journey back to London. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, he wrote: “For about twenty-eight days, I suppose, I did not preach, in Scotland, to less than ten thousand every day. This has weakened my body; but the Redeemer knows how to renew my strength. I am as well as a pilgrim can expect to be. About £70 were collected for the Edinburgh Orphans; and I heard of near a dozen young men, who were awakened about ten years ago, and have since entered the ministry, and are likely to prove very useful. Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

The Rev. John Gillies, one of his constant hearers, remarks:――

“Though, after the years 1741 and 1742, there were no such extensive awakenings, Mr. Whitefield’s coming to Scotland was always refreshing to serious persons, and seemed to put new life into them, and also to be a means of increasing their number. In various respects, his preaching was still eminently useful. It had an excellent tendency to destroy bigotry, and to turn men’s attention, from smaller matters, to the great and substantial things of religion. It drew several persons to hear the gospel, who seldom went to hear it from other ministers. Young people were much benefited by his ministry, and particularly young students, who became afterwards serious evangelical preachers. His morning discourses, which were mostly intended for sincere, but disconsolate, souls, were peculiarly fitted to direct and encourage all such in the Christian life. His addresses in the evening were of a very alarming character. There was something exceedingly striking in the solemnity of his evening congregations, in the Orphan Hospital Park at Edinburgh, and in the High-Churchyard at Glasgow, especially towards the conclusion of his sermons, (which were commonly very long, though they seemed short to the hearers,) when the whole multitude stood fixed, and hung upon his lips, many of them under deep impressions of the great objects of religion. These things will not soon be forgotten. His conversation was no less reviving than his sermons. Many in Edinburgh and Glasgow are witnesses of this, especially at Glasgow, where, in company with his good friends Mr. McLaurin, Mr. Robert Scott, and others, one might challenge the sons of pleasure, with all their wit, good humour, and gaiety, to furnish entertainment so agreeable. At the same time, every part of it was not more agreeable than it was useful and edifying.”

Such a testimony, from a minister living at the time, and one of Whitefield’s faithful friends, is possessed of more than ordinary value.

On leaving Edinburgh, Whitefield preached at Berwick, ♦Alnwick, and Morpeth. The people of Newcastle were again favoured with his ministry; and also those of Sunderland. At length, on reaching Sheffield, he wrote as follows:――

“SHEFFIELD, November 1, 1752.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――Since I left Newcastle, I have sometimes scarce known whether I was in heaven or on earth. At Leeds, Birstal, Haworth, Halifax, etc., thousands and thousands have flocked twice and thrice a day to hear the word of life. A gale of Divine influence has everywhere attended it. I am now come from Bolton, Manchester, Stockport, and Chinley. Yesterday, I preached in a church, where I believe execution was done. Four ordained ministers, friends to the work of God, have been with me. The word has run so swiftly at Leeds, that friends are come to fetch me back; and I am now going to Rotherham, Wakefield, Leeds, York, and Epworth, and purpose returning to this place next Lord’s-day. God favours us with weather, and I would fain make hay while the sun shines. Fain would I spend and be spent for the good of souls. This is my meat and drink.”

In another letter, written two days afterwards, and dated “Wakefield, November 3, 1752,” he wrote:――

“I have been upwards of three weeks from Scotland, and scarce ever had more encouragement in preaching the everlasting gospel. At Newcastle, Sunderland, and several places in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, thousands and thousands have daily attended on the word preached. I hear that arrows have stuck fast in many hearts. I am returning to Leeds; and, from thence, I shall go to York, and to several places in Lincolnshire, and am to preach at Sheffield ♦next Lord’s-day. My return to London must be determined by the weather. It has been uncommonly favourable; and it is a pity to go into winter quarters, so long as work can be done in the fields. O that I had as many tongues as there are hairs upon my head! Jesus should have them all.”

On November 10th, Whitefield arrived in London, where he wrote:――

“My Sunday’s work” (at Sheffield), “sickness, the change of weather, and parting from friends, so enfeebled me, that I was in hopes, on the road, my imprisoned soul would have been set at liberty, and fled to the blissful regions.

“I found my poor wife an invalid. Our Lord can restore her, for He came to heal our sicknesses, and to bear our infirmities.”

Whitefield was resolved not to be the founder of a sect, and yet he had some difficulty in fulfilling his resolve. His hearers in Dublin had procured a meeting-house in Skinner Street, and had formed themselves into a public Society. John Edwards, in former years one of Whitefield’s assistants, had become their preacher; and his ministry was highly acceptable. A sort of circuit had been formed, and many were the perils which Edwards encountered. On one occasion, when returning from a village, where he had been preaching, the Ormond Boys seized him, and threatened to throw him into the Liffey. The Liberty Boys, residing on the other side of the river, being political opponents of the Ormond Boys, rushed to his assistance, rescued him, and carried him home in triumph. At another time, the White Boys beset a house into which he had entered, and threatened to burn it, if he were permitted to continue in it. He escaped by a window, being let down, like the apostle Paul, in a basket.[310] The Dublin Society informed Whitefield of their position and prospects; and Whitefield wrote to Edwards, their preacher, as follows:――

“LONDON, November 11, 1752.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――Last night, the glorious Emmanuel brought me hither; and, this morning, I have been talking with Mr. Adams, and cannot help thinking, that you have run before the Lord, in forming yourselves into a public Society. Mr. Adams’s visit was designed to be transient, and I cannot promise you any settled help from hence. I am sincere, when I profess that I do not choose to set myself at the head of any party. When I came last to Ireland, my intention was to preach the gospel to all; and, if it should please the Lord to send me there again, I purpose to pursue the same plan. For I am a debtor to all, of all denominations, and have no design but to promote the common salvation of mankind. The love of Christ constrains me to this. Accept it as written from that principle.”

When “ranging for souls,” Whitefield had little time to attend to business; when he got into his winter quarters, he was obliged to recognise its claims. The following was addressed to one of the residents in his Orphan House:――

“LONDON, November 21, 1752.

“MY DEAR NAT,――Your letters have all been brought safe to hand, and have given me satisfaction. I know not of a more profitable situation that you could be in, than that you occupy at present. Next year, God willing, you will have a fellow-student. I have agreed with him, as I wrote you from Edinburgh, for three years at least. I am of your mind in respect to boarders. As affairs stand, I think that, at present, the less the family is, the better. Nothing seems to be wanted but a good overseer, to instruct the negroes in sowing and planting. Let me know whether the lumber trade is begun. Pray make George and the children to write often. He should not have written to me, Honoured Master, but Sir. I am glad to hear that some of the children promise well. Surely some good will, in the end, come out of that institution. I am only afraid of its growing too great in a worldly way. O that I may be directed to such managers as will act with a single eye to God’s glory and His people’s good! I have great confidence in you. I shall be glad to live to see you a preacher. It is a delightful employment, when done out of love to Jesus: that sweetens all. O that Georgia’s wilderness may blossom like a rose! It will, when God’s set time is come. Never mind a few evil reports. No one need be ashamed of Bethesda children.”

Whitefield, in his “winter quarters,” was as jubilant as ever. In a letter, dated December 9, he writes: “The shout of a king is amongst us. Every day, we hear of persons brought under fresh awakenings, and of God’s people being comforted. We have had two most awful sacramental occasions.”

To Wesley, the year 1752 was one of trial. Several of his itinerants began to give him trouble. At the beginning of the year, he, his brother, and eleven of their principal assistants, signed a document, which shewed that suspicion had taken the place of confidence.[311] During the year, some of the preachers informed Wesley, that his brother Charles did not enforce discipline so strictly as himself, and that Charles agreed with Whitefield, “touching perseverance, at least, if not predestination too.” The latter accusation was utterly untrue; but, as Charles, at this period, was living on terms of the most intimate friendship with the Countess of Huntingdon, and was frequently preaching and administering the sacrament in her house, it is not surprising that his brother deemed it his duty to write to him concerning it. The result was the creation of a temporary distrust and shyness between the two loving brothers. Charles took counsel with Whitefield; and Whitefield’s answer must be given.

“LONDON, December 22, 1752.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――I have read and pondered your kind letter, and now sit down to answer it. What shall I say? Really, I can scarce tell. The connection between you and your brother has been so close and continued, and your attachment to him so necessary to keep up his interest, that I would not willingly, for the world, do or say anything that may separate such friends. I cannot help thinking, that he is jealous of me and my proceedings; but, I thank God, I am quite easy about it. Having the testimony of a good conscience, that I have a disinterested view to promote the common salvation only, I can leave all to Him, who, I am assured, will, in the end, speak for me, and make my righteousness clear as the light, and my just dealing as the noonday. I more and more find, that he who believeth doth not make haste; and that, if we will have patience, we shall find that every plant which our heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be plucked up. As I wrote to good Lady Huntingdon, so I write to you. I bless God for my stripping seasons. I have seen an end of all perfection, and expect it only in Him, in whom I am sure to find it, the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. He knows how I love and honour you and your brother, and how often I have preferred your interest to my own. This, by the grace of God, I shall continue to do. My reward is with the Lord. If He approves, it is enough. More might be said, were we face to face. When this will be, I cannot tell. Several things, especially our design of building a new Tabernacle, which I hope will succeed, detain me in town this winter. God only knows what course I am to steer in the spring. I would be a blank: let my heavenly Father fill it up as seemeth Him good.

“I am glad you are with our elect lady. O how amiable is a truly catholic spirit! Lord, make us all partakers of it more and more! I beg the continuance of your prayers. I need them much. You shall have mine in return. That you and yours may increase with all the increase of God, is the earnest request of, my dear friend,

“Yours, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

On the same day, Whitefield wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon, with whom Charles Wesley was staying:――

“I shall observe your ladyship’s hints about Mr. Wesley. I believe our visits will not be very frequent.[312] But I am easy, having no scheme, no design of supplanting or resenting, but, I trust, a single eye to promote the common salvation, without so much as attempting to set up a party for myself. This is what my soul abhors. Being thus minded, I have peace; peace which the world knows nothing of, and which all must necessarily be strangers to, who are fond either of power or numbers. God be praised for the many strippings I have met with! It is good for me that I have been supplanted, despised, censured, maligned, and separated from my nearest, dearest friends. By this, I have found the faithfulness of Him, who is the Friend of friends. By this, I have been taught to wrap myself in the glorious Emmanuel’s everlasting righteousness, and to be content that He, to whom all hearts are open, now sees, and will let all see hereafter, the uprightness of my intentions towards all mankind.”

It is unpleasant to end the year with a note of discord; but it cannot honestly be avoided.

For the present, Whitefield had one enjoyment, which was almost new to him. He was no longer harassed with literary persecution. The only exception was an 8vo. pamphlet of fifty-one pages, entitled “Candid Remarks on some particular passages in the fifth edition of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield’s Volume of Sermons, printed in the year 1750. In a Letter to a Gentleman. Reading, 1752.” The author, in a gentlemanly way, criticizes some of Whitefield’s doctrines, especially that of “imputed righteousness;” and concludes by saying, though “a zeal for God appears throughout the whole of Whitefield’s performance,” yet “his method of treating his subject, and his manner of dictating to his audience, have something in them that may probably work upon the passions, but can never improve the understanding; that may occasion them to affect a superficial appearance of piety, but can hardly incite in them the power; and may induce them to acquiesce so much in the imputative righteousness of Christ, as to forget that they themselves are to be righteous, and ready to every good work, which is an indispensable part of the covenant of grace.”

One of Whitefield’s first anxieties, in 1753, was to sell his plantation in South Carolina. Writing to a friend there, on January 7, he says: “By this conveyance, I send you a power of attorney to dispose of Providence plantation. I leave it to your discretion to sell at what price you please. I would only observe, that I had rather it should be sold for less than its real value, than to keep it any longer in my hands. I do not choose to keep two families longer than is necessary. The money you receive from Providence will be immediately wanted to buy more land, and to pay for opening Bethesda’s new plantation.”

Another was the erection of a new Tabernacle. The wooden meeting-house, in Moorfields, had now stood the storms of a dozen winters. At the best, it was but a huge, ugly shed; and, of course, signs of decay were becoming visible. Still, the uncouth fabric was a sacred one. Many were the mighty sermons preached by Whitefield beneath its roof; and countless were the blessings which had fallen upon its crowds of worshippers. A more durable edifice, however, was greatly needed; and, in the summer of 1751, while at Lady Huntingdon’s residence at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, the project had been discussed, in the presence of her ladyship, Doddridge, Hervey, Hartley, and Stonehouse, all of whom were “most cordial in their approval and promise of support.” Towards the end of 1752, the subject was renewed at the house of Lady Frances Shirley, in South Audley Street; and, in compliance with the urgent entreaties of her ladyship and of the Countess of Huntingdon, Whitefield now began to exert himself in collecting money. He resolved not to begin building till he had £1000 in hand.[313] That amount he soon obtained; the first brick was laid on the 1st of March, 1753; and, within fifteen weeks afterwards, the structure was opened for public worship; the congregations, during that interval, still continuing to assemble in the wooden tabernacle, which was left standing within the shell of the building in course of erection.[314] The new Tabernacle needs no description; for, though a third has within the last few years been built upon its site, there are thousands still living who have often gazed with reverence at the low, unpretentious edifice where Whitefield so often mounted his pulpit throne, and not a few who found salvation within its walls. It will frequently be mentioned in ensuing extracts from Whitefield’s letters.[315]

There was a third affair, in which Whitefield, at this period, took, perhaps, a more active interest than was necessary. Within the last four years, the Moravians had made themselves more prominent than was consistent with Christian modesty. It was not until the year 1737, that the first Moravian services were held in England. Since then, several of their Societies had been torn by faction. In many instances, they had been the subjects of bitter persecution. Many of their religious rites were silly and objectionable. Their hymns and their literature were, to a great extent, jargon, luscious and irreverent. But, despite all, they had increased in numbers; and, above all, they had at their head an ambitious German count, who had considerable influence in the court of the German who then sat on the British throne. Count Zinzendorf, in 1749, had succeeded in getting the English parliament to pass a bill to the following effect: 1. That the Moravians were an ancient Protestant Episcopal Church. 2. That those of them who scrupled to take an oath, should be exempted doing so, on making a declaration in the presence of Almighty God, as witness of the truth. 3. That they should not be liable to serve upon juries. 4. That, in the colonies, they should be exempted from military service, under reasonable conditions. 5. That the verbal declaration of the individual, together with the certificate of a bishop or minister of the Brethren, should be regarded as sufficient proof of membership in the Moravian community. Besides this, the Count was no longer satisfied with “hired lodgings,” in Bloomsbury Square, for “the Congregation House,” but, in 1751, removed to James Hutton’s house and two adjoining ones, in Westminster. The premises were large and pleasant, overlooking the Abbey Gardens; but even they were not good enough to serve as the offices ♦of a body, on whose behalf the whole machinery of parliamentary legislation had been set in motion. Accordingly, the Count bought, of Sir Hans Sloane, a large mansion, in Chelsea, formerly the property of the ducal family of Ancaster, with beautiful grounds bordering on the Thames. In connection with this imposing “Congregation House,” a chapel was fitted up, and a burial ground laid out. These were costly proceedings; and the result of parliamentary negotiations, the purchase of Lindsey House, Chelsea, and other expenditures, was, Count Zinzendorf and the Moravians in England were in debt to the amount of nearly £140,000, and knew not how to pay it.

As will soon be seen, these facts, put in the briefest form possible, and others, which might be mentioned, induced Whitefield, both privately and publicly, to censure the proceedings of his old friends, the Unitas Fratrum.

Whitefield’s plantation at Bethesda, in Georgia, and his slave-cultivated plantation in Carolina, made him anxious. The latter he wished to sell, because, despite all his expectations, it had failed to afford him help in his benevolent designs. Hence the following:――

“LONDON, February 1, 1753.

“I am glad to hear that Ephratah plantation[316] is in some degree opened, and, thereby, a preparation made for future progress. Mr. Fox’s not coming, and going upon lumber, has been a great loss to my poor family; but I hope, ere now, all is settled, and the sowing carried on with vigour. That seems to be the thing which Providence points out at present. As so many negroes are ready, it will be a pity if Bethesda does not do something, as well as the neighbouring planters. If I were not erecting a large place for public worship, eighty feet square, I would come over immediately myself; but, perhaps, it will be best to stay till the new governor embarks, or to come a little before him.

“With this, I send your brother a power to dispose of Providence plantation. I hope to hear shortly that you have purchased more negroes. My dear friend, do exert yourself a little for me in this time of my absence. I trust the Orphan-house affairs will soon be so ordered, that no one will be troubled respecting them, but my own domestics. As Nathaniel P―――― has behaved so faithfully, I have sent him a full power, in conjunction with Mrs. W――――, to act under you. The man and woman who bring this, are, with their son, indentured to me; and I have an excellent schoolmistress, and a young student, engaged to come over shortly. Before long, I suppose, we shall have a large family. Lord, grant it may be a religious one! I would have nothing done to the buildings, besides repairing the piazza, and what else is absolutely necessary, till I come. Perhaps I may bring a carpenter with me, who will stay some years.

“I cannot tell what induces me to take care of a place, where the gospel is so little regarded, unless it be a principle of faith. What a difference is there between Georgia and several parts of England! Here, thousands and tens of thousands run, and ride miles upon miles, to hear the gospel. There――but I do not love to think of it. I see there is no happiness but in keeping near to Jesus Christ.”

The next, addressed to Lady Huntingdon, refers to the Moravians at Lindsey House, Chelsea, and to the collections for Whitefield’s new Tabernacle.

“LONDON, February 9, 1753.

“I am apt to believe that the Moravians’ scheme will soon be disconcerted. Strange! Why do God’s children build Babels? Why do they flatter themselves that God owns and approves of them, because He suffers them to build high? In mercy to them, such buildings, of whatever kind, must come down.

“I hope our intended Tabernacle is not of this nature. It would have pleased your ladyship to have seen how willingly the people gave last Lord’s-day. At seven in the morning, we collected £50; in the evening, £126. We have now near £900 in hand. Our Lord still continues to work in our old despised place. I trust it has been a Bethel to many, many souls. This, your ladyship knows, may be anywhere. Clifton is a Bethel when God is there.”

The following seems to have been written to Grimshaw, of Haworth, and refers to Gillies’ preparation of his “Historical Collections,” respecting revivals. Grimshaw complied with Whitefield’s suggestion; but his long letter, being too late to be inserted in Gillies’ bulky volumes, was not published till 1761, when it found a place in the “Appendix to the Historical Collections,” a 12mo. book of 250 pages, and now extremely rare.

“LONDON, February 19, 1753.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――At present, I have a cold and fever upon me; but I preach on, hoping one day or another to die in my work. We have had a blessed winter. Many have been added to our flock. Next week, I intend to lay the first brick of our new Tabernacle. I am looking up for direction about my removal. Which are the best seasons for the north? I should be glad to know speedily.

“Have you the first account you wrote of your conversion? Or have you leisure to draw up a short narrative of the rise and progress of the work of God in your parts? A dear Christian minister, in Scotland, is about to publish two volumes, relative to the late awakenings in various places. Such things should be transmitted to posterity; in heaven, all will be known. Thanks be to God, that there is such a rest remaining for His people! I am too impatient to get at it; but who can help longing to see Jesus? I wish you much, yea, very much prosperity. I am glad you have received the books. I am now publishing two more sermons, and a small collection of hymns for public worship.”

Whitefield’s hymn-book was entitled “Hymns for Social Worship, collected from various Authors, and more particularly designed for the use of the Tabernacle congregation in London. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon. London: printed by William Strahan, and to be sold at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields. 1753.” (16mo. 144 pp.)

The hymns are a hundred and seventy in number, besides several short doxologies. At least twenty-one of them are hymns by John and Charles Wesley. The largest number are by Watts. Most of the others were written by Cennick, Seagrave, Hammond, and Humphreys. Mr. Daniel Sedgwick, a high authority on such a subject, says, between the years 1753 and 1796, Whitefield’s hymn-book passed through thirty-six editions, a good number of them containing additions to the hymns published in 1753. Want of space renders it impossible to give a minute description of Whitefield’s collection; but the following preface is too characteristic to be omitted:――

“COURTEOUS READER,――If thou art acquainted with the divine life, I need not inform thee that, although all the acts and exercises of devotion are sweet and delightful, yet we never resemble the blessed worshippers above more than when we are joining together in public devotions, and, with hearts and lips unfeigned, singing praises to Him who sitteth upon the throne for ever. Consequently, hymns, composed for such a purpose, ought to abound much in thanksgiving, and to be of such a nature, that all who attend may join in them, without being obliged to sing lies, or not sing at all.

“Upon this plan, the following collection of hymns is founded. They are intended purely for social worship, and so altered, in some particulars, that I think all may safely concur in using them. They are short, because I think three or four stanzas, with a doxology, are sufficient to be sung at one time. I am no great friend to long sermons, long prayers, or long hymns. They generally weary, instead of edifying, and, therefore, I think, should be avoided by those who preside in any public worshipping assembly. Besides, as the generality of those who receive the gospel are commonly the poor of the flock, I have studied cheapness, as well as conciseness. Much in a little is what God gives us in His word; and the more we imitate such a method, in our public performances and devotions, the nearer we come up to the pattern given us in the Mount.

“I think myself justified in publishing some hymns, by way of dialogue, for the use of the Society, because something like it is practised in our cathedral churches, but much more so because the celestial choir is represented, in the Book of the Revelation, as answering one another in their heavenly anthems.

“That we all may be inspired and warmed with a like divine fire, whilst singing below, and be translated, after death, to join with them in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb above, is the earnest prayer of, courteous reader,

“Thy ready servant, for Christ’s sake,

“G. W.”

The publication of Whitefield’s hymn-book was, doubtless, owing to the erection of his new Tabernacle; but it is somewhat singular, that, in the same year, Wesley published his “Hymns and Spiritual Songs, intended for the use of real Christians of all Denominations;” and that, in the year following, the Moravians published two volumes, of 380 and 399 pages respectively, with the title, “A Collection of Hymns for the Children of God of all Ages, from the beginning till now. Designed chiefly for the use of the Congregations in union with the Brethren’s Church.” The curious reader may speculate how far Whitefield’s little book led to the publication of the other two.

The “sermons,” mentioned in Whitefield’s foregoing letter, were entitled, “The true nature of beholding the Lamb of God, and Peter’s Denial of his Lord, opened and explained, in two Sermons, by George Whitefield, late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1753.” (12mo. 48 pp.) In the former of these sermons, there seems to be an unworthy fling at his friend Wesley. Whitefield ought to have known that Wesley never taught the possibility of any one attaining to a sinlessness equal to that of Christ; and yet he indulged in the following remarks:――

“There was no corruption in the heart of this immaculate Lamb of God for Satan’s temptations to lay hold on; but this property belongeth only to Him. For any of His followers, though arrived at the highest pitch of Christian perfection, much less for young converts, mere novices in the things of God, to presume that they either have arrived, or ever shall, while on this side of eternity, arrive at such a sinless state, argues such an ignorance of the spiritual extent of the moral law, of the true interpretation of God’s word, of the universal experience of God’s people in all ages, as well as of the remaining unmortified corruptions of their own desperately wicked and deceitful hearts, that I venture to tell the preachers and abettors of any such doctrine, however knowing they may be in other respects, they know not the true nature of gospel holiness, nor the completeness of a believer’s standing in the unspotted imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, as they ought to know, or as I trust they themselves, through Divine grace, will be made to know before they die. Surely, it is high time to awake out of this delusive dream! Pardon this short (would to God there was no occasion for adding), though too necessary, a digression.”

Whitefield, most assuredly, was in a “delusive dream,” if he thought such remarks applicable to Wesley.

It was now seventeen years since Whitefield preached his first sermon, and he lived to preach seventeen years after this. He was in the middle of his marvellous ministry. Numerous specimens of his early discourses have been already given; and it may be useful to furnish two extracts from the sermons now in question, to assist the reader in forming an idea of the great preacher’s style of address, at the present period of his life. The first is from the sermon on “Beholding the Lamb of God.”

“If you can bear to be spectators of such an awful tragedy, I must now entreat you to enter the garden of Gethsemane. But, stop! What is that we see? Behold the Lamb of God undergoing the most direful tortures of vindictive wrath! Of the people, even of His disciples, there is none with Him. Alas! was ever sorrow like unto that sorrow, wherewith His innocent soul was afflicted in this day of His Father’s fierce anger? Before He entered into this bitter passion, out of the fulness of His heart, He said, ‘Now is my soul troubled.’ But how is it troubled now? His agony bespeaks it to be ‘exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.’ It extorts sweat, yea, a bloody sweat. His face, His hands, His garments, are all stained with blood. It extorts strong cryings, and many tears. See how the incarnate Deity lies prostrate before His Father, who now laid on Him the iniquities of us all! See how He agonizes in prayer! Hark! Again and again He addresses His Father with an ‘if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!’ Tell me, ye blessed angels, tell me, Gabriel (or whatsoever thou art called), who wast sent from heaven in this important hour, to strengthen our agonizing Lord,――tell me, if ye can, what Christ endured in this dark and doleful night! And tell me, tell me what you yourselves felt, when you heard this same God-man, whilst expiring on the accursed tree, breaking forth into that dolorous, unheard-of expostulation, ‘My God, my God, why, or how hast Thou forsaken me?’ Were you not all struck dumb? And did not an awful silence fill heaven itself, when God the Father said unto His sword, ‘Sword, smite thy fellow!’ Well might nature put on its sable weeds. Well might the rocks rend, to shew their sympathy with a suffering Saviour. And well might the sun withdraw its light, as though shocked and confounded to see its Maker die.”

The next extract is from the sermon on “Peter’s Denial of his Lord,” and describes Peter repenting.

“Methinks I see him wringing his hands, rending his garments, stamping on the ground, and, with the self-condemned publican, smiting upon his breast. See how it heaves! O what piteous sighs and groans are those which come from the very bottom of his heart. Alas! it is too big to speak; but his tears, his briny, bitter, repenting tears, plainly bespeak this to be the language of his awakened soul. ‘Alas! where have I been? On the devil’s ground. With whom have I been conversing? The devil’s children. What is this that I have done? Denied the Lord of glory;――with oaths and curses, denied that I ever knew Him. And now whither shall I go? or where shall I hide my guilty head? I have sinned against light. I have sinned against repeated tokens of His dear, distinguishing, and heavenly love. I have sinned against repeated warnings, resolutions, promises, and vows. I have sinned openly in the face of the sun, and in the presence of my Master’s enemies; and, thereby, have caused His name to be blasphemed. How can I think of being suffered to behold the face of, much less to be employed by, the ever-blessed Jesus any more? O Peter! thou hast undone thyself. Justly mayest thou be thrown aside like a broken vessel. God be merciful to me a sinner!’”

Even if he had wished, John Wesley would have found it difficult to preach in a style like this. Let the taste be good or bad, there cannot be a doubt that, with Whitefield’s dramatic action and unequalled voice, the effect of such eloquence would be next to overpowering. We return to Whitefield’s correspondence.

One of the London ministers, who had been benefited by Whitefield’s ministry, was the Rev. Mr. Steward. He had been invited to the house of the Countess of Huntingdon to hear Whitefield preach, and had been one of the first converts there. His own preaching had become popular and successful, not only at her ladyship’s, but on Garlick Hill, where, among others saved by his instrumentality, was Mrs. Kent, at the age of a hundred and four. Mr. Steward’s career was suddenly ended,――an event which greatly affected Whitefield.[317] In the following letter to Charles Wesley, he refers to this and other matters:――

“LONDON, March 3, 1753.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――I thank you and your brother most heartily for the loan of the chapel. Blessed be God! the work goes on well. On Thursday morning” (March 1st), “the first brick of our new Tabernacle was laid with awful solemnity. I preached from Exodus xx. 24: ‘In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.’ Afterwards, we sung, and prayed for God’s blessing in all places, where His glorious name is recorded. The wall is now about a yard high. The building is to be eighty feet square. It is upon the old spot. We have purchased the house; and, if we finish what we have begun, we shall be rent-free for forty-six years. We have £1100 in hand. This, I think, is the best way to build.

“Mr. Steward’s death so affected me, that, when I met the workmen that night to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of building tabernacles. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued. Eighteen years have I been waiting for the coming of the Son of God; but I find we are immortal till our work is done. Oh that we may never live to be ministered unto, but to minister. Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was with him, till a few minutes before he slept in Jesus.

“I have good news from several parts. A door is opening at Winchester. Surely the little leaven will ferment till the whole kingdom be leavened. Even so, Lord Jesus, Amen!

“My poor wife has had another plunge. We thought she was taken with palsy; but, blessed be God, she is now recovering.”[318]

The next deserves insertion for its Christian admonition.

“LONDON, March 10, 1753.

“MY DEAR MR. M――――, I have preached at Spitalfields chapel twice.[319] Both the Mr. Wesleys are agreed, as the younger brother writes me word, in answer to my letter. Let brotherly love continue. I do not like writing against anybody; but, I think, that wisdom which dwells with prudence should direct you not to fill Mr. Wesley’s people (who expect you will serve them) with needless jealousies. I hope to see the time when you will talk less of persons and things, and more of Jesus Christ. This, and this alone, can make and keep you steady in yourself, and extensively useful to others. I am glad you know when persons are justified. It is a lesson I have not yet learnt. There are so many stony-ground hearers, that I have determined to suspend my judgment, till I know the tree by its fruits.”

The following needs no explanation:――

“LONDON, March 21, 1753.

“What is happening to the Moravians is no more than I have long expected, and spoken of to many friends. Their scheme is so antichristian, in almost every respect, that I am amazed the eyes of the English Brethren have not long since been opened, and the Babel stopped. But the glorious God generally suffers such buildings to go high, that their fall may be more conspicuous. May the builders rise (I mean as to spirituals) by their falls, and gain by their losses! This is all the harm I wish them. What a blessed thing it is to live and walk in the simplicity of the gospel! How happy is that man, who, being neither fond of money, numbers, nor power, goes on day by day without any other scheme than a general intention to promote the common salvation among people of all denominations! Will you pray that I may be thus minded?”

The erection of the new Tabernacle detained Whitefield in London longer than it was his custom to stay; but, in the month of April, he made a hurried visit to the city of Norwich, where, two years before, there had been the most disgraceful riots. James Wheatley, whom the Wesleys had expelled from their connexion, for infamous behaviour, had come to Norwich, begun to preach out of doors, and formed a mongrel society of nearly two thousand persons. A temporary Tabernacle was erected for him on Timber Hill, in imitation of the one erected for Whitefield in Moorfields. Then followed the riots. Wheatley braved the storm; and, in April, 1752, steps were taken to build for him one of the largest chapels in the city.[320] The history of the entire movement is curious, but not edifying. Why Whitefield went to Norwich, it is difficult to tell. An account of his visit is contained in the following short extracts from his letters:――

“Norwich, April 17, 1753. Were it not sinful, I could wish for a thousand hands, a thousand tongues, and a thousand lives: all should be employed, night and day, without ceasing, in promoting the glory of Jesus. Thanks be to His great name, for reviving His work in the midst of the years. I trust that His people everywhere will be made to sing, ‘The winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.’ For these three days past, I have been preaching here twice a day. In the mornings, we have been quiet; but, in the evenings, the sons of Belial have been somewhat rude. The place built here for public worship is much larger than yours at Newcastle; and, I believe, hundreds of truly awakened souls attend. What cannot God do? What will the end of this be? The destruction of Jericho. The rams’ horns must go round, till its towering walls fall down. Who would not be one of these rams’ horns? My dear sir, let us not be ashamed of the cross of Christ: it is lined with love, and will ere long be exchanged for a crown. Jesus Himself will put it on our heads.”

“Norwich, April 18, 1753. How does God delight to exceed the hopes, and to disappoint the fears, of His weak, though honest-hearted people! In spite of all opposition, He has caused us to triumph even in Norwich. Thousands attend twice every day, and hear with the greatest eagerness. I hope it will appear yet more and more that God has much people here.”

Whitefield returned to London on April 21st; and, for the next three weeks, was employed, not only in preaching, but in writing. The following letter deserves attention. It was addressed to David Taylor――said to have been originally footman to Lady Ingham――a good man, but unsettled, part Moravian, part Methodist, and part Inghamite――who, by his preaching, had converted large numbers of the people in Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Lancashire, and Yorkshire, and had formed Societies in the several counties.

“LONDON, May 1, 1753.

“MY DEAR DAVID,――Do you enquire where I am? I answer, in London, longing to come to Leeds, and yet withheld by Him, whose providence ordereth all things well. Let us have a little more patience, and then, in a few weeks, I hope to have a blessed range in the north. The word ran and was glorified at Norwich. Preaching so frequently, and riding hard, almost killed me; but what is my body in comparison of precious and immortal souls?

“At present, I am engaged in a very ungrateful work; I mean, in writing against the leading Moravian Brethren. When you see it, you will know whether there was not a cause.”

Whitefield’s pamphlet was published without delay, and was entitled, “An Expostulatory Letter, addressed to Nicholas Lewis, Count Zinzendorf, and Lord Advocate of the Unitas Fratrum. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1753.” (8vo. 19 pp.) The letter is dated, “London, April 24, 1753;” and bears on the title-page the text, “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?”

Perhaps it ought to be premised that a great sensation had been already created in the country, by the publication of an octavo pamphlet of 177 pages, dedicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and entitled, “A candid Narrative of the Rise and Progress of the Hernhuthers, commonly called Moravians, or Unitas Fratrum. By Henry Rimius, Aulic Counsellor to his late Majesty the King of Prussia.” Rimius’s book was a terrible attack on Zinzendorf; and now Whitefield, wisely or unwisely, rushed into the affray. His letter begins thus:――

“MY LORD,――Although I am persuaded that nothing has a greater tendency to strengthen the hands of infidels than the too frequent altercations between the professors of Christianity, yet there are certain occasions wherein the necessary defence of the principles of our holy religion, as well as the practice of it, renders public remonstrance of the greatest use and importance.

“For many years past, I have been a silent and an impartial observer of the progress and effects of Moravianism, both in England and America; but such shocking things have been lately brought to our ears, and offences have swollen to such an enormous bulk, that a real regard for my king and my country, and a disinterested love for the ever-blessed Jesus, will not suffer me to be silent any longer. Pardon me, therefore, my lord, if I am constrained to inform your lordship that you, together with some of your leading brethren, have been unhappily instrumental in misguiding many simple, honest-hearted Christians; of distressing, if not totally ruining, numerous families; and of introducing a whole farrago of superstitious, not to say idolatrous, fopperies into the English nation.”

Having asserted that, whatever might be “the principles and usages of the ancient Moravian Church,” he can find no trace of the present practices of the Moravians in the primitive churches, Whitefield continues:――

“Will your lordship give me leave to descend to a few particulars? Pray, my lord, what instances have we of the first Christians walking round the graves of their deceased friends on Easter Day, attended with hautboys, trumpets, French horns, violins, and other kinds of musical instruments? Or where have we the least mention made of pictures of particular persons being brought into the first Christian assemblies, and of candles being placed behind them, in order to give a transparent view of the figures? Where was it ever known that the picture of the apostle Paul, representing him handing a gentleman and lady up to the side of Jesus Christ, was ever introduced into the primitive lovefeasts? Or do we ever hear of incense, or something like it, being burnt for him, in order to perfume the room before he made his entrance among the brethren? And yet your lordship knows this has been done for you, and suffered by you, without your having shewn, as far as I can hear, the least dislike of it at all.

“Again, my lord, I beg leave to enquire whether we hear anything in Scripture of eldresses or deaconnesses seating themselves before a table covered with artificial flowers, and against that a little altar surrounded with wax tapers, on which stood a cross, composed either of mock or real diamonds, or other glittering stones? And yet your lordship must be sensible, this was done in Fetter Lane chapel, for Mrs. Hannah Nitschmann, the present general eldress of your congregation, with this addition, that all the sisters were seated in German caps, and clothed in white, and the organ also illuminated with three pyramids of wax tapers, each of which was tied with a red ribbon, and over the head of the general eldress was placed her own picture, and over that (horresco referens) the picture of the Son of God. A goodly sight this, my lord, for a company of English Protestants to behold! Alas! to what a long series of childish and superstitious devotions, and unscriptural impositions must they have been habituated, before they could sit as silent spectators of such an anti-Christian scene!”

Besides this general onslaught on Moravian ritualism, Whitefield, in foot-notes, ridicules the absurdity of the “married women” of the Moravian community “being ordered to wear blue knots; the single women, pink; those who are just marriageable, pink and white; widows past child-bearing, white; and those who were not so, blue and white.” He also describes a ludicrous, or rather theatrical and repulsive scene, in Hatton Garden, at the celebration of the birthday of Hannah Nitschmann; and then proceeds to the subject of Moravian fraud and bankruptcy. He writes:――

“I have another question to propose to your lordship. Pray, my lord, did any of the apostles or leaders of the primitive churches ever usurp an authority, not only over people’s consciences, but properties, or draw in the members of their respective congregations to dispose of whole patrimonies at once, or to be bound for thousands more than they knew they were worth? And yet your lordship knows this has been done again and again, in order to serve the purposes of the Brethren; and that, too, at or very near the time, when, in order to procure an Act in their favour, they boasted to an English Parliament how immensely rich they were.”

Whitefield then specifies some of the Moravian debts; and concludes by speaking of the “horrid equivocations, untruths, and low artifices,” made use of to obtain such enormous loans:――

“At present,” says he, “I shall add no more, but earnestly say Amen to that part of the Brethren’s litany, ‘From untimely projects, and from unhappily becoming great, keep us, our good Lord and God!’ And as heartily praying, that the glorious Jesus may prosper all that is right, and give grace to correct and amend all that is wrong, among all His people of all denominations, I subscribe myself, my lord, your lordship’s most obedient humble servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

This was plain speaking. Perhaps some will think that Whitefield’s interference was offensively officious; but it must be borne in mind, that, besides being bound to take a general interest in everything pertaining to the religion of the land, Whitefield was closely associated with the Moravians at the beginning of his ministry; and that, in his extensive itinerancy, he still came into frequent contact with them. And, further, though it may be still contended that Whitefield might have been more usefully employed, there cannot be a doubt that he now rendered a great and lasting service to the Moravian community; for his letter to Zinzendorf helped to check and to correct the extravagance and the absurdly ritualistic practices, into which the Unitas Fratrum had fallen.

Whitefield’s “letter” created almost as great a sensation as Rimius’s “Narrative”; and, in whole or in part, was reprinted in the magazines and newspapers of the day. The Moravians were angry. Peter Bohler declared publicly, in the pulpit, that Whitefield’s letter “was all a lie.” James Hutton spoke of “many bulls of Bashan roaring madly against the Count; and describing him as a Mahomet, a Cæsar, an impostor, a Don Quixote, a devil, the beast, the man of sin, the Antichrist.”[321] He also sent the following threatening letter “to the publisher of the Public Advertiser”:――

“SATURDAY, June 2, 1752.

“You, sir, have published such an extract of Mr. Whitefield’s libel in your paper, as is punishable by law; which example of yours the country newspapers and the London magazines have followed.

“I would have you immediately consider well, whether you are liable or no; and, if you find yourself so, to let me know what steps you think to take to avoid a prosecution.

“A submission in the Public Advertiser, next Monday, expressing your sorrow for having published that extract (without at all entering into the merits of the cause, whether true or false), and asking pardon of the persons reflected on therein, seems to me the best and only way of preventing that prosecution, which else, in all probability, will very soon begin.

“I am, sir, yours,

“JAMES HUTTON.”

A similar letter was sent to the publisher of the Daily Gazetteer. The Archbishop of Canterbury, likewise, received an anonymous epistle, not written, but made up of words, taken out of printed books, of different types, and pasted upon a sheet of paper:――

“MY LORD,――Our Moravian Church having subsisted above 1700 years, and you being the chief of a Church, which is her puny sister, your Grace ought not to suffer that villain Rimius publicly to vilify our right reverend and valuable patron and us. The man is quite stupid, else he would have known that he, being but a single person, and deeply in debt, can do us no hurt. We are a multitude, a parliamentary constitution, a church that stands upon a rock, and have treasures inexhaustible, and can hold out against him, and all the rest of our enemies. But we shall soon make him flee his country; or he shall meet with a fate which he scarce expects.”[322]

Bohler and Zinzendorf both wrote to Whitefield; and, as their letters are of historical importance, they are here given in extenso:――

“May 8, 1753.

“SIR,――I pity you very much that you suffer yourself to be so much imposed on, and to print your impositions so inconsiderately.

“You have now attempted a second time to ruin my character. You represent me as the inventor of an artificial mount,[323] etc. You build upon that, two assertions: 1. That I invented it as a means to encourage a certain gentleman in his undertakings. 2. That I did it to make up a quarrel with him, by these means. Now I can attest, with a good conscience, before God, that I had no hand in inventing, or contriving, or executing, etc., such an artificial mound and picture, etc.; and both your conclusions, that you build on it, drop of course.

“You also assert, that, I and others paid our devotions in a certain room, of which you please to give a description; but you really are in this point also grossly imposed upon. By whom? By an apostate!

“The person against whom you chiefly level your letter, is so maliciously misrepresented therein, that really you yourself will be ashamed of it one day before God and man. It would have been ingenuous in you to have asked some of your old friends, whether the charges you lay against us be true. But that, you have not done. You will perhaps say to me, ‘You can clear yourself in print.’ But this sounds, in my ears, as if a drunken man would pelt one with dirt, and then say, ‘Now I will shew you water where you can wash yourself again.’ I, for my part, have always abhorred paper war; for I think the result of such a war, for a child of God, is no other than vinco seu vincor, semper ego maculor (conquering or conquered, I am dishonoured). And, besides that, I think it incumbent upon an honest man, when he rashly and heedlessly has cast an aspersion upon his fellow-creatures――fathered actions upon an innocent person of whom he was altogether ignorant――and, with the most prejudicial assertions, charged a body of people with faults of which they, neither in whole nor in part, are guilty――to do all in his power to remove such aspersions of which he is the author or propagator.

“Dear Mr. Whitefield, when the secret intentions of man, together with all his unjust deeds and actions, will be judged, how glad would you be then, not to have treated our Society, in general; and, in particular, that venerable person against whom your letter is chiefly levelled; and poor me, in so injurious, yea, I may say, impudent and wicked a manner.

“But, perhaps, my dear and merciful Saviour may give you grace, that I may, a second time, be asked pardon by you; which I, for your sake, heartily desire; but, for my sake, am entirely unconcerned about; who, as an unworthy servant of my dear Lord Jesus Christ, who was slain for His enemies, shall continue to love and pray for you.

“PETER BOHLER.”

To say the least, this is an odd, evasive letter, unworthy of the man who had taught the Wesleys the way of salvation by faith in Jesus Christ. Zinzendorf’s is no better:――

“May 8, 1753.

“REV. SIR,――As I read no newspapers, I knew nothing of your ‘Expostulatory Letter,’ till a worthy clergyman of the Church of England communicated to me his copy but yesterday.

“You are a preacher, I suppose, of Christ; therefore, though you are, it seems, an utter stranger to me, you may guess why you see no reply to your letter.

“In private, I tell you so much, that you are mistaken in the chief point you urge with more zeal than knowledge.

“As yet, I owe not a farthing of the £40,000 you are pleased to tell me of; and, if your precipitate officiousness should save me and those foreigners, you forewarn so compassionately, from that debt, your zeal would prove very fatal to the English friends you pity, it seems, no less than the German.

“As for the distinction in the dress of our women, pray consider that St. Paul has thought it worth his while to make certain regulations about the head-dress; and you may remain more quiet, as you have no notion what our ordinances are.

“If some brethren, in their Easter Liturgy, make use of French-horns, (which they are to answer for, not I, for my chapel has none,) let the synod consider of it.

“I have not seen the pamphlet you tell us of. It is dedicated to the Archbishop, you say. If the author got the permission of his Grace fairly, then the thing is serious indeed; yet, I shall have nothing to say to Mr. Rimius.

“I make but one observation for your good, sir. Are you sure that all the quotations out of the Bible are true? If so, is it possible that the interpretations, which some eighty different sects of Christians give to the passages in which they oppose each other, can be the true meaning of the author? Are all those which are made out of your own books to be depended upon? For my own part, I find that the single passage you borrow from Mr. Rimius is an imposition upon the public, as gross as if St. Paul, when he says, ‘We have but one God the Father,’ etc., should be charged with denying the divinity of Jesus. As thousands of our people are satisfied, that I oppose that meaning of the said quotation, with all my credit in the Church; and have supported my opposition, with all my substance and that of my family, above these thirty years; and will continue so long as I have a shirt left; what must they think when they see my book quoted in that manner?[324] I add no more.

“As your heart is not prepared to love me, nor your understanding to listen to my reasons, I wish you well, sir, and am your loving friend,

“LOUIS.”[325]

These were unsatisfactory and discreditable letters, and not at all an answer to Whitefield’s charges. The truth is, a satisfactory answer was impossible. There can be no question, that the Moravians had begun to practise a ritualism the most silly; and that their expenditure had brought them to the very verge of bankruptcy and disgraceful ruin.[326]

It would be wearisome and unprofitable to pursue the subject. Suffice it to say, that, in the month of November, 1753, a pamphlet, of forty-three pages, was published with the following uncouth title: “He who is a Minister of the Gospel, and highly esteems the Sufferings of the Lamb, his Introduction to the Method or Way of the Evangelical Church of the Brethren in dealing with Souls. To which is prefixed, A short Answer to Mr. Rimius’s long uncandid Narrative. And a Lesson for Mr. Whitefield to read before his Congregation.” The bulk of the pamphlet was a translation of Zinzendorf’s German treatise, entitled, “Method with Souls,” etc., and requires no attention; but that section of it which relates to Whitefield may be quoted:――

“If Mr. Whitefield had been more acquainted with the customs of the primitive Christians, he need not have asked, ‘Did the primitive Christians visit the graves of the deceased?’

“As to the illuminations, they are no part of the worship, and cannot concern him.

“As to their debts, he has no business to trouble himself about them. He will never be asked to pay them; for he, among the Brethren, to whom the Lord has been most bountiful, has taken upon himself to discharge them.

“As his intelligence has been from such as St. Paul distinguishes by the name of false brethren, any man, possessed of common sense, may know what regard it deserves.

“One fault among the Brethren is, that they do not abound with charity sermons, and look sharp after the plate, as is done he knows where and by whom.

“By this time, I doubt not, Mr. Whitefield is able to answer his own queries; and, I hope, wishes he had taken Paul’s advice to Timothy: ‘Foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing that they do gender strifes.’”

On the other side, there was published a pamphlet, whose title will convey an idea of its contents:――“A true and authentic Account of Andrew Frey; containing the occasion of his coming among the Hernhuters, or Moravians; his Observations on their Conferences, Casting Lots, Marriages, Festivals, Merriments, Celebrations of Birth-days, Impious Doctrines, and Fantastic Practices, Abuse of Charitable Contributions, Linen Images, Ostentatious Profuseness, and Rancour against any who in the least differ from them; and the Reasons for which he left them; together with the Motives for publishing this Account. Faithfully translated from the German.”[327]

All this disreputable contention prepared the way for Bishop Lavington to publish, two years afterwards, his “Moravians Compared and Detected.” (8vo. 180 pp.)

It is time to return to Whitefield’s gospel wanderings, and correspondence.

About the middle of the month of May, he left London for a tour in Wales, and made “a circuit of about seven hundred miles.”[328] He preached above twenty times, at Narberth, Pembroke, Haverfordwest, and other places; and was again in London on the 7th of June. The Moravian controversy filled his mind and crushed his heart. To his old secretary, John Syms, who had joined the Moravians, and who had basely threatened a revelation of some of Whitefield’s secret affairs, he wrote:――

“HAVERFORDWEST, May 27, 1753.

“MY DEAR MAN,――Though my wife has not forwarded the letter, she says you have sent me a threatening one. I thank you for it, though unseen, and say unto thee, if thou art thus minded, ‘What thou doest, do quickly.’ Blessed be God, I am ready to receive the most traitorous blow, and to confess, before God and man, all my weaknesses and failings, whether in public or private life. I laid my account of such treatment, before I published my ‘Expostulatory Letter.’ Your writing in such a manner convinces me more and more, that Moravianism leads men to break through the most sacred ties of nature, friendship, and disinterested love.

“My wife says, you write, that, ‘I am drunk with power and approbation.’ Wast thou with me so long, my dear man, and hast thou not known me better? What power didst thou know me ever to grasp at? or, what power am I now invested with? None, that I know of, except that of being a poor pilgrim. As for approbation, God knows, I have had little else besides the cross to glory in, since my first setting out. May that be my glory still!

“My wife says, you write, that ‘I promised not to print.’ I remember no such thing. I know you advised me not to do so, but I know of no promise made. If I rightly remember, I had not then read Rimius; but, after that, I both heard and saw so many things, that I could not, with a safe conscience, be silent.

“My wife says, you write, ‘the bulk of my letter is not truth.’ So says Mr. Peter Bohler; nay, he says, ‘it is all a lie;’ and, I hear, he declares so in the pulpit; so that, whether I will or not, he obliges me to clear myself in print. If he goes on in this manner, he will not only constrain me to print a third edition, but also to publish a dreadful heap that remains behind. My answers to him, the Count, and my old friend Hutton, are almost ready. I cannot send them this post, but may have time before long.

“O, my dear man, let me tell thee, that the God of truth and love hates lies. That cause can never be good, that needs equivocations and falsehoods to support it. You shall have none from me. I have naked truth. I write out of pure love. The Lord Jesus only knows what unspeakable grief I feel, when I think how many of my friends have so involved themselves. If anything stops my pen, it will be concern for them, not myself. I value neither name nor life itself, when the cause of God calls me to venture both. Thanks be to His great name, I can truly say, that, for many years past, no sin has had dominion over me; neither have I slept with the guilt of any known, unrepented sin lying upon my heart.

“I wish thee well in body and soul, and subscribe myself, my dear John, your very affectionate, though injured, friend for Christ’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

To another friend, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“LONDON, June 8, 1753.

“Mr. S―――― can tell you what concern the Brethren’s awful conduct has given me. Surely, if the Redeemer had not supported me, I should, within these two months, have died of grief. But I will say no more; Jesus knows all things. He will not long bear with guile. I and the Messrs. Wesley are very friendly. I like them, because they let the world see what they are at once. I suspect something wrong, when so much secresy is required.”

Two days after writing this, Whitefield opened his new Tabernacle, on which occasion he preached, in the morning, from Solomon’s prayer at the dedication of the temple; and, in the evening, from 1 Chron. xxix. 9: “Then the people rejoiced, for that they offered willingly, because with perfect heart they offered willingly to the Lord: and David the king also rejoiced with great joy.” It is needless to add, that the building “was crowded almost to suffocation in every part.”[329]

The Tabernacle being built and opened, Whitefield felt himself at liberty to “take the field.” Accordingly, on June 20, he started off to Portsmouth, where he spent about a week. Having fulfilled his mission there, he set out for the north of England. He had “two good meetings” at Olney. At Northampton, “several thousands attended.” Leicester was “a cold place; but the people stood very attentive, and some were affected.” At Nottingham, “a great multitude came to hear, but a son of Belial endeavoured to disturb them.” At Sheffield, he had “two good meetings,” and a congregation “consisting of several thousands.” At Rotherham, “after preaching, a young man was set at liberty, who had been groaning under the spirit of bondage for four years.” At Leeds thousands attended daily; and, on the Lord’s-day, it was computed that near twenty thousand were present. At Birstal[330] and Bradford, “many thousands flocked together.” “At York,” he says, “I preached four times; twice we were disturbed, and twice we had sweet seasons.” Thus did he preach all the way from London to Newcastle where he arrived on Saturday, July 14. Three days afterwards, he wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“NEWCASTLE, July 17, 1753.

“I wrote to your ladyship just before I set out for Portsmouth, and thought to have written again at my return, but was hindered by staying only one night in London. Ever since, I have been on the range for lost sinners; and, blessed be God! I have been much owned by Him who delights to work by the meanest instruments. Sometimes I have scarce known whether I have been in heaven or on earth. I came hither on Saturday, and have preached seven times, and once at Sunderland, where a great multitude attended, and were deeply impressed. At five in the morning, the great room[331] is filled; and, on the Lord’s-day, the congregation out of doors was great indeed. Surely the shout of a King has been amongst us. All is harmony and love. I am now going to a place called Sheep-hill, and shall return to preach here again in the evening. To-morrow I set forward to Scotland. This may be communicated to Mr. Charles Wesley, to whom I would write if I had time.”

The Scots’ Magazine for 1753 (p. 361) says:――

“Mr. George Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh July 20th; went thence to Glasgow on the 27th; returned to Edinburgh August 3rd; and set out for London on the 7th. He preached daily, morning and evening, when at Edinburgh, in the Orphan Hospital Park; and, when at Glasgow, in the Castle-yard, to numerous audiences. In his sermons at Glasgow, he declaimed warmly against a play-house, lately erected within the enclosure in which he preached. The consequence was, that, before his departure, workmen were employed to take it down, to prevent its being done by ruder hands.”

Whitefield went to Scotland, not with his usual buoyancy. Under date of “Edinburgh, July 21,” he wrote:――

“The inward discouragements I have felt against coming to Scotland have been many. I have left a people full of fire. Thousands and thousands flocked to hear the glorious gospel. I have heard of awakenings in every place. Saints have been revived, and heaven, as it were, has come down on earth. We have enjoyed perpetual Cambuslang seasons. My heart is quite broken to think poor Scotland is so dead.”

He, however, plunged into his work, and not without success. In another letter, dated “Glasgow, July 25, 1753,” he says:――

“Yesterday, I was enabled to preach five times, and, I suppose, the last time to near twenty thousand. At Edinburgh, I preached twice every day to many thousands, among whom were many of the noble and polite. Attention sits on the faces of all; and friends come round me, like so many bees, to importune me for one week’s longer stay in Scotland.”

As already stated, Whitefield started, from Edinburgh to London, on Tuesday, August 7th. On Wednesday, he preached at Berwick, and again on Thursday morning. On Thursday night, he arrived at Alnwick, and “it being the time of the races,” he preached on the words, “So run that ye may obtain.” He writes:――

“Whilst I was discoursing, the gentlemen came down from the race, and surrounded the congregation, and heard very attentively. The next morning, at five, I preached again; and, about noon, at a place called Placey; and, in the evening, about nine, at Newcastle, where a great number expected me, and my text was, ‘At midnight, a cry was made, Behold, the Bridegroom cometh.’”

On the Sunday following, he wrote to Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“I am to preach three times every day this week. This promise supports me――‘As thy day is, so shall thy strength be.’ By the enclosed, you will see the devil owes me a grudge for what was done at Glasgow. Would it not be proper to insert a paragraph to contradict it?”

Next day, August 13th, he wrote to another friend:――

“My route is now fixed. After preaching here” (Newcastle) “and hereabouts three times each day, I am to leave this place on Thursday; to be at Stockton on Sunday; at Osmotherley on Monday noon; lie at Topcliff, and reach York, by way of Boroughbridge, on Tuesday next; and then come forwards to Leeds.

“I could not finish this letter last night. It is now Tuesday morning. Surely heaven came down amongst us, under the last evening’s preaching. It was almost too much for my body. I must away to Horsley to preach, from whence I am to return here to preach again this evening. Thrice a day tries me, but in the Lord have I righteousness and strength. If you hear of a mob being raised, by my preaching, at Glasgow, assure your friends there was none; but Satan owes me a grudge for speaking against the play-house.”

It is important to bear in mind, that, at nearly all, if not actually all, the places in the north of England, where Whitefield preached, there were meeting-houses and Societies belonging to his friend Wesley. In truth, whatever might be the case in London, Whitefield, in the country, was Wesley’s fellow-labourer. There was no formal and avowed union between the two, and, on some important doctrines, they differed; but wherever Whitefield went, Wesley’s people were prepared to welcome him; and he was equally prepared to do them all the good he could.[332] Osmotherley[333] is mentioned in the foregoing extract. This was a small moorland village, quite out of Whitefield’s way to London, and difficult of access; but one of Wesley’s Societies had been formed even here, and they were about to erect a chapel. On no other ground, except that Whitefield, without professing it, was acting as Wesley’s lieutenant, is it possible to account for Whitefield’s visits to places like Osmotherley, Placey, Horsley, Sheephill, Stockton, and others which might be mentioned.

The mob at Glasgow has been named. The explanation is, the proprietor of a play-house was supposed to be so affected by Whitefield’s preaching, that he, at once, began to take down the roof of his edifice. Either through malice or misinformation, several of the newspapers of the day represented this as being done by a mob, under the exciting influence of Whitefield’s ministry.[334] Whitefield had been so often mobbed himself, that he had no wish to be announced as allied to mobs. Hence, before he left Newcastle, he wrote the following letter, which was printed, by the publishers, in the Newcastle Journal:――

“NEWCASTLE, August 17, 1753.

“GENTLEMEN,――By your last Saturday’s paper, I find that some Edinburgh correspondent has informed you, that, when I was preaching at Glasgow on the 2nd inst., to a numerous audience, near the play-house lately built, I inflamed the mob so much against it, that they ran directly from before me, and pulled it down to the ground; and that several of the rioters, since then, have been taken up, and committed to jail. But, I assure you, this is mere slander and misinformation. It is true, indeed, that I was preaching at Glasgow, to a numerous auditory, at the beginning of this month; and that I thought it my duty to shew the evil of having a play-house erected in a trading city――almost, too, before the very door of the university. And this, by the help of God, if called to it, I should do again. But that I inflamed the mob, or that they ran directly from me, and pulled the play-house down, or that the rioters were taken up and put into prison, is entirely false.

“I suppose all this took its rise from the builder taking down the roof of the house himself. You must know that the walls of this play-house were part of the old palace of the Bishop of Glasgow, and only had a board covering put upon them during the time of the players being there. They being gone, the owner (whether convinced by anything that was said, I cannot tell) began to take off the roof several days before I left that place; so that, if there had been any riot, doubtless I should have seen it.

“No, gentlemen, your correspondent may assure himself that I am too much a friend to my God, my king, and my country, to encourage any such thing. I know of no such means of reformation, either in church or state. The weapons of a Christian’s warfare are not carnal. And therefore, if you please to inform the public and your Edinburgh correspondent of the mistake, in to-morrow’s paper, you will oblige, Gentlemen,

“Your very humble servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

On leaving Newcastle, Whitefield continued to visit towns and villages, where Wesley had formed Societies, and everywhere his gigantic labours were attended with marvellous success. The following extracts from two letters to the Countess of Huntingdon will convey an idea of the scenes he witnessed:――

“YORK, September 11, 1753.

“Last Saturday, I returned to Leeds, whence I had been absent a fortnight. What the glorious Emmanuel gave us to see and feel, is inexpressible. What a sacrament at Haworth! We used thirty-five bottles of wine on the occasion. I have been as far as Bolton, Manchester, and Stockport. At the last place, so much of the Divine presence came amongst us, that it was almost too much for our frail natures to bear. Everywhere the congregations looked like swarms of bees; and the more I preached, the more eager they seemed to be. At Birstal, last Lord’s-day, there were near twenty thousand; and, on Monday morning, the parting at Leeds was the most affecting I ever saw. Last night, I came hither, and preached with quietness. This morning, I am setting out for Lincolnshire. Besides travelling, I have been enabled to preach thrice a day frequently. I hear of scores of souls who have been awakened. They tell me that a hundred have been added to the Sunderland Society.[335] Never did I see the work more promising. God be merciful to me a sinner, and give me an humble, thankful heart!”

“LONDON, September 26, 1753.

“Yesterday, the good and never-failing Redeemer brought me and mine to London, where I expect to stay only a few days. During the last three months, I have been enabled to travel about twelve hundred miles, and to preach about one hundred and eighty sermons, to many, very many, thousands of souls. More glorious seasons I never saw. My last excursion has been to York, Lincolnshire, Rotherham, Sheffield, Nottingham, and Northampton, where, I believe, near ten thousand came to hear last Lord’s-day.”

Though Whitefield had built and opened his new Tabernacle, he was not inclined to “nestle” in it. Within ten days after his arrival in London, he resumed his itinerancy. On Saturday, October 6th, he had “a blessed season at Olney;” and, next day, “two glorious opportunities” at Northampton. On Monday, October 8th, he preached at Oxenden and Bosworth; on Tuesday, at Kettering and Bedford; and on Wednesday, at Bedford and Olney. He then set out for Staffordshire, and preached “at Birmingham and several adjacent places.” Three weeks after his departure from London, he wrote as follows:――

“WOLVERHAMPTON, October 27, 1753.

“My last, I think, was from Nantwich. Since then, I have been breaking up new ground.[336] I have preached four times at Alpraham, in Cheshire, where the Lord was with us of a truth; and where He had prepared my way, by blessing several of my poor writings. At Chester, I preached four times; a great concourse attended; all was quiet;[337] several of the clergy were present; and the word came with power. I have since heard that the most noted rebel in the town was brought under deep conviction, and could not sleep night or day. At Liverpool, the way was equally prepared. A person, who had been wrought on by some of my printed sermons, met me at landing, and took me to his house.[338] A great number, at a short notice, were convened; all were quiet; and some came under immediate conviction. Wrexham has been a rude place; and, upon my coming there, the town was alarmed, and several thousands came to hear. Some of the baser sort made a great noise, and threw stones, but none touched me, and, I trust, our Lord got Himself the victory. The next day, near Alpraham, we had another heaven upon earth. The morning after, I intended to preach near Nantwich, where a Methodist meeting-house has lately been pulled down. Here Satan roared. The mob pelted Mr. D――――[339] and others much, but I got off pretty free, and had opportunity of preaching quietly a little out of town. Last night, I preached here, in the dark, to a great number of hearers. I am now bound for Wednesbury, Dudley, and Kidderminster.”

Eleven days after writing this, Whitefield had returned to London; but, two days afterwards, he was off to Gloucester, and the west of England. The following was addressed to the Rev. Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow, who had requested him to point out those parts of his Journals which it might be desirable to insert in the “Historical Collections,” then in course of preparation for the press:――

“GLOUCESTER, November 16, 1753.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I received your kind letter, and would have sent the Journals immediately, but knew not how. My wife promised to embrace the first opportunity that offered; and I hope, ere long, they will come safe to hand. As for my pointing out particular passages, it is impracticable. I have neither leisure nor inclination so to do. My doings and writings appear to me in so mean a light, that I think they deserve no other treatment than to be buried in eternal oblivion.

“Great things were done in and about Newcastle; but far greater did we see afterwards in Yorkshire, Lancashire, etc. Since then, I have been another tour, and have preached at Liverpool, Chester, Coventry, Birmingham, Dudley, Wednesbury, Kidderminster, Northampton, Bedford, etc. At present, I am in my native county, where the Lord has given us several precious meetings. After a few days’ sojourning here, I am bound for Bristol and Plymouth; and, in about three weeks, I purpose to betake myself to my winter quarters.”

Whitefield arrived at Bristol on November 19th, and wrote, as follows, to Thomas Adams:――

“BRISTOL, November 21, 1753.

“Never before had I such freedom in Gloucestershire. Showers of blessings descended from above. I came here on Monday evening, and to my great disappointment, found that the new Tabernacle is not finished, so that I know not well what to do. However, we had a good time last night at the Hall.

“Your motion to go to Norwich, I much approve of. Whatever others design, that is nothing to us. Simplicity and godly sincerity will carry all before them in the end. O that the sons of Zeruiah could be persuaded to let us alone! But how then should we be able to approve ourselves sons of David? By thorns and briars, the old man must be scratched to death. O this crucifixion work! Lord Jesus, help us to go through with it! He will, He will. I commend thee and thine to His almighty protection and never-failing mercy: and remain, my very dear man,

“Yours most affectionately,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

A word of explanation. After the termination of James Wheatley’s ministry at Norwich, it became a serious question who was to occupy his Tabernacle there. The Society he had gathered was composed of persons far from perfect. Considerable wrangling ensued; but, until 1758, the Norwich Tabernacle was chiefly supplied by the preachers connected with Whitefield’s Tabernacle in Moorfields. It then passed into the hands of Wesley; who, in 1763, gave it up as a hopeless undertaking. For twelve years after that, it was occupied by the Rev. John Hook, grandfather of the Rev. Dr. Hook, Dean of Worcester, and of Theodore Hook, the celebrated novelist. In 1775, James Wheatley let it to Lady Huntingdon, at an annual rent of £40. It is not necessary to pursue its history further.[340]

Then, in reference to the Bristol Tabernacle. Almost from the commencement of their career, the followers of Whitefield and of Wesley had held separate services at Bristol. Wesley had had a chapel there ever since the year 1739. Up to the present, Whitefield had none. Considering the peculiar position held by Whitefield, as belonging to no party and yet the friend of all, it is difficult to imagine why he now sanctioned the erection of a chapel for himself, except that he and his special adherents were well aware, that many, belonging to the upper classes of society, who were in the habit of visiting the Hotwells, would not attend Wesley’s meeting-house, but would be likely to sit under the more popular ministry of his friend Whitefield. Be that as it may, the Countess of Huntingdon exerted her influence to obtain the necessary funds for a new erection. Lord Chesterfield sent her £20;[341] but added, “I must beg my name not to appear in any way. Lady Chesterfield is active among her friends, and, I doubt not, you will reap the benefit of her solicitations.” The Earl of Bath sent £50, and said, “It gives me unfeigned pleasure to hear of the good effects of Mr. Whitefield’s preaching at Bristol, and amongst the colliers.” The result of Lady Huntingdon’s efforts was, the new Tabernacle was now nearly completed, and Whitefield had come to open it.[342] The dedication services were held on Sunday, November 25th.[343] Hence the following letter to a friend:――

“BRISTOL, December 1, 1753.

“We have enjoyed much of God at Bristol. Twice I preached in my brother’s great house to the quality, amongst whom was one of Cæsar’s household.[344] On Sunday last, I opened the new Tabernacle. It is large, but not half large enough. Would the place contain them, I believe near as many would attend as do in London.”

This is all that Whitefield has recorded concerning the consecration of the Bristol Tabernacle. The day after its opening, he set out on a preaching tour in Somersetshire; but says:――

“The weather was so violent, and my call to London likely to be so speedy, that I turned back. On Tuesday, at seven in the evening, I preached in the open air to a great multitude. All was hushed and exceeding solemn. The stars shone very bright, and my hands and body were pierced with cold; but what are outward things, when the soul within is warmed with the love of God?”

While Whitefield was opening the Bristol Tabernacle, Wesley was seized with an illness, which all his friends expected to prove fatal. Just at the same time, the wife of Charles Wesley caught the small-pox at Bristol, and was in the greatest danger. Between this excellent lady and the Countess of Huntingdon there existed a close intimacy and friendship; and, whenever the Countess was in Bristol, Charles Wesley and his wife always received a warm welcome to her house. Charles was now in London, visiting his apparently dying brother; but was greatly needed by his wife in Bristol. In this emergency, Lady Huntingdon hurried Whitefield to the metropolis, to enable Charles Wesley to pay a visit to his seemingly dying wife.[345] This brief statement will help to explain the following beautifully pathetic letters, written by Whitefield, at this afflictive period. The first was probably addressed to the noted Methodist at Leeds, William Shent:――

“BRISTOL, December 3, 1753.

“I have been preaching the last week in Somersetshire. The fire there warmed and inflamed me, though I preached in the open air on Tuesday evening at seven o’clock, as well as on Wednesday and Thursday. I purposed to go as far as Plymouth, but Providence has brought me back, and I am now hastening to London, to pay my last respects to my dying friend. It may be, that shortly Mr. John Wesley will be no more. The physicians think his disease a galloping consumption. I pity the Church; I pity myself; but not him. We must stay behind in this cold climate, whilst he takes his flight to a radiant throne. Poor Mr. Charles will now have double work.”

On the same day, Whitefield wrote to both the Wesleys. The first of the ensuing letters was addressed to Charles; the second to John.

“BRISTOL, December 3, 1753.

“Being unexpectedly brought back from Somersetshire, and hearing you are gone on such a mournful errand, I cannot help sending after you a few sympathising lines. The Lord help and support you! May a double spirit of the ascending Elijah descend and rest on the surviving Elisha! Now is the time to prove the strength of Jesus yours. A wife, a friend, and brother, ill together! Well, this is our comfort, all things shall work together for good to those that love God.

“If you think proper, be pleased to deliver the enclosed. It is written out of the fulness of my heart. To-morrow, I leave Bristol, and purpose reaching London on Saturday. Glad shall I be to reach heaven first; but faith and patience hold out a little longer. Yet a little while, and we shall be all together with our common Lord. I commend you to His everlasting love, and am, my dear friend, with much sympathy, yours, etc.,

“G. WHITEFIELD.”

“BRISTOL, December 3, 1753.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――If seeing you so very weak, when leaving London, distressed me, the news and prospect of your approaching dissolution have quite weighed me down. I pity myself and the Church, but not you. A radiant throne awaits you, and, ere long, you will enter into your Master’s joy. Yonder He stands with a massy crown, ready to put it on your head, amidst an admiring throng of saints and angels; but I, poor I, who have been waiting for my dissolution these nineteen years, must be left behind, to grovel here below! Well, this is my comfort, it cannot be long ere the chariots will be sent even for worthless me. If prayers can detain them, even you, reverend and very dear sir, shall not leave us yet; but, if the decree is gone forth, that you must now fall asleep in Jesus, may He kiss your soul away, and give you to die in the embraces of triumphant love! If in the land of the dying, I hope to pay my last respects to you next week. If not, reverend and very dear sir, F-a-r-e-w-e-ll! I prae sequar, etsi non passibus aequis. My heart is too big: tears trickle down too fast; and you, I fear, are too weak for me to enlarge. Underneath you may there be Christ’s everlasting arms! I commend you to His never-failing mercy, and am, reverend and very dear sir, your most affectionate, sympathising, and afflicted younger brother, in the gospel of our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[346]

Ten days later, Whitefield wrote again to Charles Wesley, as follows:――

“LONDON, December 13, 1753.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――The Searcher of hearts alone knows the sympathy I have felt for you and yours; and in what suspense my mind has been concerning the event of your present circumstances. I pray and enquire, and enquire and pray again; always expecting to hear the worst. Ere this can reach you, I expect the lot will be cast, either for life or death. I long to hear, that I may partake, like a friend, either of your joy or sorrow. Blessed be God for the promise, whereby we are assured that all things work together for good to those who love Him! This may make us, at least, resigned, when called to part with our Isaacs. But who knows the pain of parting, when the wife and the friend are conjoined? To have the desire of one’s eyes cut off with a stroke, what but grace, omnipotent grace, can enable us to bear it? But who knows? perhaps the threatened stroke may be recalled; and my dear friend enjoy his dear yoke-fellow’s company a little longer. Surely the Lord of all lords is preparing you for further usefulness by these complex trials. We must be purged, if we would bring forth more fruit.

“Your brother, I hear, is better. To-day I intended to have seen him; but Mr. Blackwell sent me word, he thought he would be out for the air. I hope Mr. Hutchinson[347] is better. But I can scarce mention anybody now, but dear Mrs. Wesley. Pray let me know how it goes with you. My wife truly joins in sympathy and love. Night and day indeed you are remembered by, my dear friend, yours, etc.,

“G. WHITEFIELD.”[348]

A week afterwards, Whitefield wrote another letter to his beloved friend, full of jubilant thankfulness that the health of the afflicted ones was improving.

“LONDON, December 20, 1753.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――I most sincerely rejoice, and have given private and public thanks, for the recovery of your dear yoke-fellow. My pleasure is increased by seeing your brother so well, as I found him on Tuesday at Lewisham. O that you may both spring afresh, and your latter end increase more and more! Talk not of having no more work to do in the vineyard! I hope all our work is but just beginning. I am sure it is high time for me to do something for Him who has done and suffered so much for me. Near forty years old, and such a dwarf! The winter come already, and so little done in the summer! I am ashamed, I blush, and am confounded. And yet, God blesseth us here. Truly, His outgoings are seen in the Tabernacle. The top-stone is brought forth: we will now cry, ‘Grace! grace!’ I must away. Our joint respects attend you all. I hope Mr. Hutchinson mends. I hear his brother is dead. My most dutiful respects await our elect lady.”[349]

These touching letters not only exhibit the warm friendship existing between Whitefield and the two Wesleys, but also unfold the tenderness of Whitefield’s feelings, and his profound sympathy with distress. Many others might have been inserted, as illustrative of the same moral excellencies; but, for want of space, they have been excluded.

Mrs. Grinfield, one of the ladies at the court of King George II., has been mentioned, as having been greatly blessed by Whitefield’s ministry. On his return to London, Whitefield visited her; and wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, December 15, 1753.

“Yesterday morning, I obeyed your ladyship’s commands, and carried the enclosed to Mrs. Grinfield, at St. James’s Palace. I was much satisfied with my visit, and am much rejoiced to find that she seems resolved to shew out at once. The court, I believe, rings of her, and, if she stands, I trust she will make a glorious martyr for her blessed Lord. Oh that your ladyship could see your way clear to come up! Now seems to be the time for a fresh stir. Few have either courage or conduct to head a Christian party amongst persons of high life. That honour seems to be put upon your ladyship,――and a glorious honour it is.

“On Tuesday, I am to dine with Mr. John Wesley, who was yesterday, for a few minutes, at the Foundery; but, I hear, his lungs are touched. I cannot wish him to survive his usefulness. It is poor living to be nursed; but our Lord knows what is best for His children. I wish I might have the use of West Street Chapel once or twice a week. Many want to hear at that end of the town. The Messrs. Wesley are quite welcome to all the help I can give them.”

At Christmas, Whitefield’s old friend, the Rev. Gilbert Tennent, and the great Virginian preacher, the Rev. Samuel Davies, came to England, as a deputation, to solicit subscriptions for the new college, founded by Governor Belcher, at Princeton. Their mission was an important one. The Presbyterian churches in the six colonies of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, and Carolina were looking to this college for their future supply of ministers.[350] Under such circumstances, and quite apart from the respect which Whitefield felt for Governor Belcher, the errand of the two American ministers was sure to have his sympathy and help. He wrote a recommendatory letter to the Marquis of Lothian, and, through him, introduced the strangers to the Presbyterians of Scotland. The result of their visit was, they obtained contributions from England and Scotland, which “amply enabled the trustees to erect a convenient edifice for the accommodation of the students, and to lay a foundation for a fund for the support of necessary instructors.”[351]

Whitefield refers to this in the following letter to the Rev. Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“LONDON, December 27, 1753.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I am surprised to find, by your last kind letter, that my poor Journals are not come to hand. My wife informs me that they were sent to one Mr. E――――, who was to send off goods the very next day.

“Perhaps it will please you to hear that Messrs. Tennent and Davies supped with me last night. May the good Lord prosper the work of their hands! I hope they will be introduced soon to the Marquis of Lothian, and, by him, to Lord Leven. I shall help them all I can. At the great day, all things will be laid open.[352]

“Would you think it, I am this day thirty-nine years of age.[353] Did not business require my attendance, I could lock myself up, and lie prostrate all the day long in deep humiliation before God. My dear sir, let none of my friends cry to such a sluggish, unprofitable worm, ‘Spare thyself.’ Rather, spur me on, I pray you, with an ‘Awake, sleeper, and begin to do something for thy God!’ The Lord being my helper, I will. Do Thou strengthen me, my Lord and my God! and I will go for Thee, at Thy command, to the uttermost parts of the earth. O break, break my heart; Look to Him, whom thou hast pierced! Look and love; look and mourn; look and praise! Thy God is yet thy God!

“Every day, sir, we hear of fresh work. Scores of notes are put up by persons brought under conviction; and God’s people are abundantly refreshed. Last night, the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. I cannot tell you half. I am lost in wonder. For the present, my dear sir, adieu!”

In such a spirit Whitefield ended the year 1753. On Tuesday, January 1, 1754, he preached, in the Tabernacle, to a densely crowded congregation, from the parable of the barren fig-tree. His American friends, Tennent and Davies, were present, and the latter wrote: “Though the discourse was incoherent, it seemed to me better calculated to do good to mankind than all the accurate, languid discourses I had ever heard. After the sermon, I enjoyed his pleasing conversation at his house.”

Whitefield spent the first two months of 1754 in London, and was fully occupied, partly in preaching, and partly in preparing for his intended voyage to America. He wrote: “I meet with my share of trials. Every sermon preached this winter has been fetched out of the furnace. But what are we to expect, as Christians and ministers, but afflictions? Our new Tabernacle is completed, and the workmen all paid. What is best of all, the Redeemer manifests His glory in it. Every day, souls come crying, ‘What shall we do to be saved?’ I expect, in a fortnight, once more to launch into the great deep, with about ten or twelve destitute orphans under my care.”[354] He embarked at Gravesend, on the 7th of March; and, in another chapter, we must follow him.

FIFTH VISIT TO AMERICA.

MARCH 1754 TO MAY 1755.

NINE days after leaving England, the ship, in which Whitefield sailed, anchored in Lisbon harbour, where it remained about a month. This was a long detention for Whitefield and his “destitute orphans;” but he usefully employed the time in making himself acquainted with the full-blown Popery of the metropolis of Portugal. His letters on this subject fill twenty-four closely printed pages, in his collected works. At his return to England, in 1755, four of these letters were printed, with the title, “A brief Account of some Lent and other Extraordinary Processions and Ecclesiastical Entertainments, seen last Year at Lisbon. In four Letters to an English Friend. By George Whitefield.” (8vo. 29 pp.) Whitefield’s letters were extensively quoted by the newspapers and magazines of the day; and even the Monthly Review――no great friend to Whitefield――said, “Our celebrated itinerant preacher expresses a just and manly resentment of the miserable bigotry of the Portuguese, and the priestly delusion with which they are led into even more ridiculous fopperies than ever disgraced the pagan theology.”[355]

What did Whitefield see? Extracts from the letters――as brief as possible――shall supply an answer.

“LISBON HARBOUR, March 17, 1754.

“Yesterday we anchored in this port. We are now lying before a large place, where we see hundreds going to worship in their way. We have just been at ours. Though sent without a friend, yet I am not left alone. ‘O my God, Thy presence on earth, Thy presence in heaven, will make amends for all!’ Indeed, Jesus Christ is a good master. He has given me the affections of all on board, and as kind a captain as we could desire.”

“LISBON HARBOUR, March 19, 1754.

“As yet, I have not been on shore, but expect to go to-morrow. To an eye fixed on Jesus, how unspeakably little do all sublunary things appear! My dear sir, let us be laudably ambitious to get as rich as we can towards God. The bank of heaven is a sure bank. I have drawn thousands of bills upon it, and never had one sent back protested. God helping me, I purpose lodging my little earthly all there. I hope my present poor but valuable cargo will make some additions to my heavenly inheritance.”

“LISBON, March 21, 1754.

“This leaves me an old inhabitant of Lisbon. A very reputable merchant has received me into his house, and every day shews me the ecclesiastical curiosities of the country. All is well on board; and Lisbon air agrees with me extremely. I hope what I see will help to qualify me better for preaching the everlasting gospel. O pray for me; and add to my obligations by frequently visiting my poor wife. Kindnesses shewn to her, during my absence, will be double kindnesses.”

“LISBON, March 26, 1754.

“I have been here above a week. I have seen strange and incredible things,――not more strange than instructive. Never did civil and religious liberty appear to me in such a light as now. What a spirit must Martin Luther and the first Reformers have been endued with, who dared to appear as they did for God! Lord, hasten the happy time, when others, excited by the same spirit, shall perform like wonders! O happy England! O happy Methodists, who are Methodists indeed! And all I account such, who, being dead to sects and parties, aim at nothing else but a holy method of living to and dying in the blessed Jesus.”

“LISBON, March 29, 1754.

“O my dear Tabernacle friends, what a goodly heritage has the Lord vouchsafed you! Bless Him, O bless Him, from your inmost souls, that you have been taught the way to Him, without the help of fictitious saints! Thank Him, night and day, that to you are committed the lively oracles of God! Adore Him continually for giving you to hear the Word preached with power; and pity and pray for those who are led blindfold by crafty and designing men!”

“LISBON, April 1, 1754.

“On my arrival here, what engaged my attention most was the number of crucifixes and little images of the Virgin Mary, and of other real or reputed saints, which were placed in almost every street, or fixed against the walls of the houses almost at every turning. Lamps hung before them; the people bowed to them as they passed along; and near some of them stood little companies, singing with great earnestness.

“Soon after my arrival, I saw a company of priests and friars bearing lighted wax tapers, and attended by various sorts of people, some of whom had bags and baskets of victuals in their hands. After these, followed a mixed multitude, singing, and addressing the Virgin Mary. In this manner, they proceeded to the prison, where all was deposited for the use of the poor persons confined therein.

“At another time, I saw a procession of Carmelite friars, parish priests, and brothers of the order, walking two by two, in divers habits, holding a long lighted wax taper in their right hands. Among them, was carried, upon eight or ten men’s shoulders, a tall image of the Virgin Mary, in a kind of man’s attire, with a fine white wig on her head, and much adorned with jewels and glittering stones. At some distance from the Lady, under a large canopy supported by six or eight persons, came a priest, holding in his hand a noted relic. After him, followed thousands of people, singing all the way. These processions, from one convent to another, were made daily, for the purpose of obtaining rain.

“In a large cathedral church, I saw a wooden image of our blessed Lord, clothed with purple robes, and crowned with thorns, and surrounded with wax tapers of prodigious size. He was attended by many noblemen, and thousands of spectators of all ranks and stations, who crowded from every quarter, and, in their turns, were admitted to perform their devotions. This they did by kneeling, and kissing the Seigneur’s heel, by putting their left and right eye to it, and then touching it with their beads.”

“LISBON, April 3, 1754.

“On Friday, I saw a procession chiefly made up of waxen or wooden images, carried on men’s shoulders through the streets, and intended to represent the life and death of St. Francis, the founder of one of their religious orders. They were brought from the Franciscan convent, and were preceded by three persons in scarlet habits, with baskets in their hands, in which they received the alms of the spectators, for the benefit of the poor prisoners. After these, came two little boys, in party-coloured clothes, with wings fixed on their shoulders, in imitation of little angels. Then appeared the figure of St. Francis, very gay and beau-like, as he used to be before his conversion. In the next, he was introduced under conviction, and consequently stripped of his finery. Then was exhibited an image of our blessed Lord, in a purple gown, with long black hair, and St. Francis lying before Him, to receive His orders. Then came the Virgin Mother, with Christ her son on her left hand, and St. Francis making obeisance to them both. Here, if I remember aright, he made his first appearance in his friar’s habit, with his hair cut short, but not yet shaved in the crown of his head. After a little space, followed a mitred cardinal gaudily attired, and St. Francis almost prostrate before him, to be confirmed in his office. Soon after this, he was metamorphosed into a monk, his crown shorn, his habit black, and his loins girt with a knotted cord. Here he prayed to our Saviour, hanging on a cross, that the marks of the wounds in His hands, feet, and side, might be impressed on him; and the prayer was granted, by a representation of red waxen strings, reaching from those parts of the image to the corresponding parts of St. Francis’s body. In a little while, St. Francis was carried along, as holding up a house which was falling. Then he was brought forth lying in his grave, the briars and nettles under which he lay being turned into fine and fragrant flowers. After this, he was borne along upon a bier covered with a silver pall, and attended by four friars lamenting over him. He then appeared, for the last time, drawing tormented people out of purgatory with his knotted cord, which the poor souls caught and held most eagerly. Then came a gorgeous friar, under a splendid canopy, bearing in his hand a piece of the holy cross. After him, followed two more little winged boys; and then a long train of fat and well-favoured Franciscans, with their calceis fenestratis, as Erasmus calls them; and so the procession ended.

“One night, about ten o’clock, I saw a train of near two hundred penitents, making a halt, and kneeling in the street, whilst a friar, from a high cross, with a crucifix in his hand, was preaching to them and the populace with great vehemence. Sermon being ended, the penitents went forwards, and several companies followed after, with their respective preaching friars at their head, bearing crucifixes. These they pointed to and brandished frequently, and the hearers as frequently beat their breasts and clapped their cheeks. At proper pauses, they stopped and prayed, and one of them, before the king’s palace, sounded the word penitentia through a speaking trumpet. The penitents themselves were clothed and covered all over with white linen vestments, only holes were made for their eyes to peep out at. All were bare-footed, and all had long heavy chains fastened to their ancles, which, when dragged along the street, made a dismal rattling. Some carried great stones on their backs. Others had in their hands dead men’s bones and skulls. Some bore large crosses upon their shoulders; whilst others had their arms extended, or carried swords with their points downwards. Most of them whipped and lashed themselves, some with cords, and others with flat bits of iron. Had my dear friend been there, he would have joined me in saying, that the whole scene was horrible; so horrible it was, that, being informed it was to be continued till morning, I was glad to return whence I came about midnight.”

“LISBON, April 12, 1754.

“I have now seen the solemnities of a Holy Thursday, which is a very high day in Lisbon, and particularly remarkable for the grand illuminations of the churches, and the king’s washing twelve poor men’s feet. I got admittance into the gallery where the ceremony was performed. It was large, and hung with tapestry, one piece of which represented the humble Jesus washing the feet of His disciples. Before this, upon a small eminence, sat twelve men in black. At the upper end, and in several other parts of the gallery, were sideboards with large gold and silver basins and ewers most curiously wrought; and near these a large table covered with a variety of dishes, set off and garnished after the Portuguese fashion. Public high mass being over, his majesty came in attended with his nobles. The washing of feet being ended, several of the young noblemen served up dishes to the king’s brother and uncles. These again handed them to his majesty, who gave, I think, twelve of them to each poor man. The whole entertainment took up near two hours.

“After dinner, we went to see the churches. Many of them were hung with purple damask trimmed with gold. In one of them was a solid silver altar of several yards’ circumference, and near twelve steps high; and in another a gold one, still more magnificent, of about the same dimensions. Its basis was studded with many precious stones, and near the top were placed silver images, in representation of angels. Each step was filled with large silver candlesticks, with lighted wax tapers in them. The great altars of other churches were illuminated most profusely. Go which way you would, nothing was to be seen but illuminations within, and hurry without; for all persons, princes and crowned heads themselves not excepted, are obliged on this day to visit seven churches or altars, in imitation of our Lord’s being hurried from one tribunal to another, before He was condemned to be hung upon the cross.”

“LISBON, April 13, 1754.

“On Good Friday, I witnessed, in a large church belonging to the convent of St. De Beato, the crucifixion of the Son of God. Upon a high scaffold, hung in the front with black bays, and behind with purple silk damask laced with gold, was exhibited an image of the Lord Jesus at full length, crowned with thorns, and nailed on a cross between two figures of like dimensions, representing the two thieves. At a little distance, on the right hand, was placed an image of the Virgin Mary, in plain long ruffles, and a kind of widow’s weeds, her veil of purple silk, and a wire glory round her head. At the foot of the cross, lay, in a mournful, pensive posture, a living man, dressed in woman’s clothes, who personated Mary Magdalen. Not far off, stood a young man, in imitation of the beloved disciple. He was dressed in a loose green silk vesture and bob-wig. Near the front of the stage, stood two sentinels in buffs, with formidable caps and long beards. Directly in the front, stood another, yet more formidable, with a large target in his hand. From behind the purple hangings, came out about twenty little purple-vested winged boys, each bearing a lighted wax taper, and wearing a crimson and gold cap. At their entrance upon the stage, they bowed to the spectators, and then kneeled, first to the image on the cross, and then to that of the Virgin Mary. At a few yards’ distance, stood a black friar, in a pulpit hung with mourning. When he had preached about a quarter of an hour, a confused noise was heard near the great front door. Four long-bearded men entered, two carrying a ladder on their shoulders, and two bearing large gilt dishes, full of linen, spices, etc. Upon their attempting to mount the scaffold, the sentinels presented the points of their javelins to their breasts. Upon this, a letter from Pilate was produced; and the sentinels withdrew their javelins. The four men then ascended the stage, and retired to the back of it. All the while, the black friar continued declaiming; Magdalen wrung her hands; and John stood gazing on the crucified. The ladders were erected and ascended. The superscription and crown of thorns were taken off. White rollers were put round the arms of the image. The nails, which fastened the hands and feet, were knocked out. The orator lifted up his voice, and almost all the hearers beat their breasts and smote their cheeks. The body was gently let down; Magdalen received the feet into her wide-spread handkerchief; and John seized the upper part of it in his clasping arms, and, with his fellow-mourners, helped to bear it away. Great preparations were made for its interment. It was wrapped in linen and spices; and, being laid upon a bier richly hung, was carried round the churchyard in grand procession. The image of the Virgin Mary was chief mourner, and John and Magdalen, with a whole troop of friars bearing wax tapers, followed after. In about fifteen minutes, the corpse was brought back, and deposited in an open sepulchre. John and Magdalen attended the obsequies; but the image of the Virgin Mary was placed upon the front of the stage, in order to be kissed, adored, and worshipped by the people. Thus ended this Good Friday’s tragic-comical, superstitious, idolatrous farce. I cannot stay to see what they call their Hallelujah and grand devotions on Easter-day. That scene is denied me. The wind is fair, and I must away.”

Thus terminated Whitefield’s visit to the city of Lisbon, a city containing 36,000 houses, 350,000 inhabitants, a cathedral, forty parish churches, as many monasteries, and a royal palace; and yet a city which, a year and a half afterwards, by an earthquake, which shook almost the whole of Europe, was reduced to a heap of ruins, and in which, in six minutes, not fewer than 60,000 persons met with an untimely death. The terrific judgment was not unmerited. No act of the Supreme Ruler is capricious. Some of the sights which Whitefield witnessed were hateful, hideous caricatures of the greatest and most solemn truths and facts ever made known to human beings. They were theatrical idolatries, which no system, except Paganism and Popery, would dare to practise. Popery in Lisbon was unchecked, and, therefore, undisguised. In England and America, it chiefly existed in lurking-places. The thing, as it really is, Whitefield had never seen till he went to the Portuguese metropolis. Favourable circumstances are always needful for its full development. The system is essentially semper idem; and if the sights seen by Whitefield are not at present seen in England, the reason is, not because the Popish hierarchy deem them wrong, but, because such profanities are impracticable.

Whitefield was about a month in Lisbon, without preaching a single sermon. Why? To have attempted preaching would have ensured his immediate expulsion or imprisonment. His heart yearned over the deluded inhabitants, but he was powerless to afford them help. On hearing of the just judgment of 1755, he wrote, “O that all who were lately destroyed in Portugal had known the Divine Redeemer! Then the earthquake would have been only a rumbling chariot to carry them to God. Poor Lisbon! How soon are all thy riches and superstitious pageantry swallowed up!”

Whitefield, for once in his life, was gagged and silent; but his time was not unprofitably spent. He was learning lessons which could not be learned in England or America, and which, he hoped, would make him a better man and a better preacher, to the end of life. He became a stauncher Protestant, and felt more than ever how invaluable were the privileges enjoyed by the inhabitants of Great Britain. “Every day,” said he, “I have seen or heard something that has a tendency to make me thankful for the glorious Reformation. O that our people were equally reformed in their lives, as they are in their doctrines and manner of worship! But alas! alas! O for another Luther! O for that wished-for season, when everything that is antichristian shall be totally destroyed by the breath of the Redeemer’s mouth, and the brightness of His appearing!” “O with what a power from on high must those glorious reformers have been endued, who dared first openly to oppose and to stem such a torrent of superstition and spiritual tyranny! And what gratitude we owe to those who, under God, were instrumental in saving England from a return of such spiritual slavery, and such blind obedience to the papal power! To have had a papist for our king; a papist, if not born, yet, from his infancy, nursed up at Rome; a papist, one of whose sons is advanced to the ecclesiastical dignity of a cardinal, and both of whom are under the strongest obligations to support the interests of that Church, whose superstitions and political principles they have imbibed from their earliest days! Blessed be God, the snare is broken, and we are delivered. O for Protestant practices to be added to Protestant principles! O for an acknowledgment to the ever-blessed God for our repeated deliverances!” “The present is a silent, but, I hope, an instructive period of my life. Surely England, and English privileges, civil and religious, will be dearer to me than ever. The preachers here have also taught me something; their action is graceful. Vividi oculi――vividae manus,――omnia vivida. Surely our English preachers would do well to be a little more fervent in their address. They have truth on their side. Why should superstition and falsehood run away with all that is pathetic and affecting?”

Whitefield set sail, for America, on Saturday, April 13th, and, after a pleasant passage of six weeks’ duration, landed, in South Carolina, on May 26th. With his “orphan-charge,” he, at once, proceeded to Bethesda, in Georgia. After a short stay at his Orphanage, he returned to Charleston, where, on July 12, he wrote, “The Bethesda family now consists of above a hundred. He, who fed the multitude in the wilderness, can and will feed the orphans in Georgia.” Eight days afterwards, when “on board the Deborah” bound for New York, he wrote:――

“I found and left my orphan family comfortably settled in Georgia. The colony, as well as Bethesda, is now in a thriving state. I have now a hundred and six black and white persons to provide for. The God whom I desire to serve will enable me to do it. I stayed about six weeks in Carolina and Georgia. My poor labours have met with the usual acceptance; and I have reason to hope a clergyman has been brought under very serious impressions. My health has been wonderfully preserved. My wonted vomitings have left me; and though I ride whole nights, and have been frequently exposed to great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains, yet I am rather better than usual.”

On July 26th, Whitefield landed at New York, where he continued about a week. He wrote:――

“NEW YORK, July 28, 1754.

“Here our Lord brought me two days ago; and, last night, I had an opportunity of preaching on His dying, living, ascending, and interceding love, to a large and attentive auditory. Next week, I purpose going to Philadelphia, and then shall come here again, in my way to Boston. Whether I shall then return to Bethesda, or embark for England, is uncertain. I fear matters will not be settled at the Orphan House, unless I go once more. I have put some upon their trial, and shall want to see how they behave. I owe for three of the negroes, who were lately bought, but hope to be enabled to pay for them at my return from the north. My God can and will supply all wants. His presence keeps me company, I find it sweet to run about for Him. I find the door all along the continent as open as ever, and the way seems clearing up for the neighbouring islands. Had I a good private hand, I could send you the account of my family; but perhaps I may deliver it to you myself.”

Further brief extracts from his letters will enable the reader to track Whitefield in his wanderings.

“New York, July 30. To-morrow, God willing, I preach at Newark; on Wednesday, at New Brunswick; and hope to reach Trent Town that night. Could you not meet me there? You must bring a chair: I have no horse. O that the Lord Jesus may smile on my feeble labours! I trust He has given us a blessing here. Yesterday, I preached thrice: this morning I feel it. Welcome weariness for Jesus!”

“Philadelphia, August 7th. Yesterday, I was taken with a violent cholera morbus, and hoped, ere now, to have been where the inhabitants shall no more say, ‘I am sick.’ But I am brought back again. May it be to bring more precious souls to the ever-blessed Jesus! This is all my desire. My poor labours seem to be crowned here, as well as at New York. I received the sacrament at church on Sunday; and have preached in the Academy; but I find Mr. Tennent’s meeting-house abundantly more commodious.”

“Philadelphia, August 15. My late sickness, though violent, has not been unto death. With some difficulty, I can preach once a day. Congregations increase rather than decrease. The time of my departure is fixed for next Tuesday; and all the following days, till Sunday, are to be employed between this and New Brunswick. Whilst I live, Lord Jesus, grant I may not live in vain!”

“Philadelphia, August 17. Were you on this side the water, you would find work enough. There is a glorious range in the American woods. It is pleasant hunting for sinners. Thousands flock daily to hear the word preached.”

“New York, September 2. Blessed be God, we have had good seasons between Philadelphia and New York. In the New Jerusalem, yet more glorious seasons await us. Some time this week, I expect to sail for Rhode Island.”

It is impossible to determine where the next three weeks were spent; but, after that, his journeys may be traced. The first of the following extracts is taken from a letter addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon. Whitefield appears to have visited New Jersey for the purpose of being present at the opening of a new session of Governor Belcher’s New Jersey College, the president and trustees of which, with almost unseemly haste, began to exercise the powers conferred upon them by the royal charter obtained from George the Second only six years before. They created Whitefield an M.A.!――a dubious honour, which the B.A. of Pembroke College, Oxford, for ten or twelve years afterwards, had good taste enough not to use.[356]

“Elizabeth Town (New Jersey), September 30. I am now at Governor Belcher’s, who sends your ladyship the most cordial respects. His outward man decays, but his inward man seems to be renewed day by day. I think he ripens for heaven apace. Last week was the New Jersey commencement, at which the president and trustees were pleased to present me with the degree of A.M. The synod succeeded. Such a number of simple-hearted, united ministers, I never saw before. I preached to them several times, and the great Master of assemblies was in the midst of us. To-morrow, I shall set out, with the worthy president,[357] for New England; and expect to return back to the Orphan House through Virginia. This will be about a two thousand mile circuit.”

In another letter, written on the same day, Whitefield says:――

“Just two months ago, I arrived at New York, from South Carolina; and, ever since, have been endeavouring to labour for the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. Sinners have been awakened, saints quickened, and enemies made to be at peace with me. In general, I have been enabled to travel and preach twice a day. Everywhere, the door has been opened wider than ever.”

It has been already stated, that, about the year 1750, Georgia was placed under a kind of civil government, in lieu of the military one, which had been exercised from the time when the colony was founded; and that James Habersham, Whitefield’s first manager at Bethesda, and now a merchant at Savannah, was appointed provincial secretary. A change had become imperative. There was a general discontent among the inhabitants. They quarrelled with one another and with their magistrates. They complained; they remonstrated; and, finding no satisfaction, many of them removed to other colonies. Of the two thousand emigrants who had come from Europe, not above six or seven hundred were left. The mischief grew worse and worse every day; until, at length, the Government revoked the grant to the trustees, took the province into their own hands, and placed it on the same footing as Carolina.[358] On August 6, 1754, his Majesty King George II., in council, appointed John Reynolds, Esq., “to be Captain General and Governor-in-Chief of Georgia;” and James Habersham, “to be Secretary and Registrar.”[359] The following letter, addressed to Habersham, refers to these events:――

“BOSTON, October 13, 1754.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――It has given me concern, that I have not been able to write one letter to Georgia, since my arrival at New York. Sickness, travelling, and preaching prevented me.

“This letter leaves me at Boston, where, as well as in other places, the word has run and been glorified. People are rather more eager to hear than ever. After staying a short time here, I purpose to go through Connecticut to New York, and thence, by land, to Georgia.

“Blessed be God, that a governor is at length nominated. I wish you joy of your new honour. May the King of kings enable you to discharge your trust, as becomes a good patriot, subject, and Christian! I wish I knew when the governor intends being in Georgia. I would willingly be there to pay my respects to him.

“O my dear old friend, and first fellow-traveller, my heart is engaged for your temporal and eternal welfare. You have now, I think, a call to retire from business, and to give up your time to the public. I have much to say when we meet. God deals most bountifully with me. Enemies are made to be at peace, and friends everywhere are hearty.”

Glimpses will be obtained of Whitefield’s labours, at Boston and other places, in the following extracts from his letters:――

“Boston, October 14. Surely my coming here was of God. At Rhode Island, I preached five times. People convened immediately, and flocked to hear more eagerly than ever. The same scene opens at Boston. Thousands waited for, and thousands attended on, the word preached. At the Old North (church), at seven in the morning, we generally have three thousand hearers, and many cannot come in. Convictions fasten; and many souls are comforted. Dr. Sewall has engaged me once to preach his lecture. The polite are taken, and opposition falls. I preach at the Old and the New North (churches). Mr. Pemberton and Dr. Sewall continue to pray for me. A governor for Georgia being nominated, determines my way thither. The door opens wider and wider. Pray tell Mr. H――――, that I left his horse a little lame, at Long Island, with one who, in contempt, is called Saint Dick. All hail such reproach!”

“Portsmouth, New Hampshire, October 24. About a month ago, I wrote you a few lines from New Jersey. Since then, I have advanced about three hundred miles further northward. But what have I seen? Dagon falling everywhere before the ark; enemies silenced, or made to own the finger of God; and the friends of Jesus triumphing in His glorious conquest. At Boston, though the four meeting-houses, in which I preached, will hold about four thousand, yet, at seven o’clock in the morning, many were obliged to go away, and I was helped in through the window. In the country, a like scene opens. I am enabled to preach always twice, and sometimes thrice a day. Thousands flock to hear, and Jesus manifests His glory. I am now come to the end of my northward line, and, in a day or two, purpose to turn back, and to preach all the way to Georgia. It is about a sixteen hundred miles journey. Jesus is able to carry me through. Into His almighty and all-gracious hands I commend my spirit. Gladly would I embark for England, but I should leave my American business but half done, if I were to come over now.”

“Portsmouth, October 25. At Salem, we were favoured with a sweet Divine influence. Sunday (October 20) was a high day at Ipswich, where I preached thrice. Hundreds were without the doors. On Monday, at Newbury, the like scene opened twice. On Tuesday morning, also, we had a blessed season. Too many came to meet and bring me into Portsmouth, where I preached on Tuesday evening; also twice the next day. Yesterday, I preached at York and Kittery. In the evening, I waited on General Pepperell,[360] who, with his lady, was very glad to see me. I am now going to Greenland; and, to-morrow, shall preach at Exeter. The Sabbath (October 27) is to be kept at Newbury. Monday, I am to preach thrice,――at Rowley, Byfield, and Ipswich; Tuesday, at Cape Ann; and Wednesday night, or Thursday morning, at Boston.”

“Rhode Island, November 22. With great difficulty, I am got to this place, where people are athirst to hear the word of God. I shall, therefore, stay, God willing, till Monday, and then set out to Connecticut, in my way to New York, which I hope to reach in about a fortnight. O that you may see me humbled under a sense of the amazing mercies which I have received during this expedition! It seems to me to be the most important one I was ever employed in. Very much have I to tell you when we meet.”

The next is an extract from a letter addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“RHODE ISLAND, November 25.

“Is it true that your father-in-law and your dear yoke-fellow are dead? I sympathise with you from my inmost soul. Surely your time and mine will come ere long. Meanwhile, may I be doing something for my God! I am now going towards Georgia, from Boston, where my reception has been far superior to that of fourteen years ago. There, and at other places in New England, I have preached near a hundred times since the beginning of October; and, thanks be to God! we scarce had so much as one dry meeting. Not a hundredth part can be told you. In Philadelphia, New Jersey, and New York, the great Redeemer caused His word to run and be glorified. In Georgia, I expect to see our new governor. Blessed be God! Bethesda is in growing circumstances; and I trust it will more and more answer the end of its institution. I was exceedingly delighted at New Jersey commencement. Surely that college is of God. The worthy president, Mr. Burr, intends to correspond with you. O that I could do it oftener! but it is impracticable. Travelling, and preaching, always twice and frequently thrice a day, engross almost all my time. However, neither you nor any of my dear Glasgow friends are forgotten by me. No, no; you are all engraven upon my heart. O that God may give you hearts to remember poor sinful and hell-deserving me! Fain would I continue a pilgrim for life.

‘Christ’s presence doth my pains beguile, And makes each wilderness to smile.’

“I have a fourteen hundred miles ride before me; but nil desperandum, Christo duce, auspice Christo.”

More than a month intervenes between the date of this letter to Mr. Gillies, and the next preserved letter of Whitefield. The reader must try to imagine the great preacher gradually pursuing his immense horseback-ride, making the primeval forests ring with his songs of praise, and preaching the gospel of his Master, twice or thrice every day. His Christmas was spent in Maryland. Hence the following:――

“BOHEMIA, MARYLAND, December 27.

“I have been travelling and preaching in the northern provinces for nearly five months. I suppose I have ridden near two thousand miles, and preached about two hundred and thirty times; but to how many thousands of people cannot well be told. O what days of the Son of man have I seen! God be merciful to me an ungrateful sinner!

“I am now forty years of age, and would gladly spend the day in retirement and deep humiliation before that Jesus, for whom I have done so little, though He has done and suffered so much for me.

“About February, I hope to reach Georgia; and, at spring, to embark for England. There, dear madam, I expect to see you once more in this land of the dying. If not, ere long, I shall meet you in the land of the living, and thank you, before men and angels, for all favours conferred on me. To-morrow, God willing, I move again. Before long, my last remove will come; a remove into endless bliss.”

Thus rejoicing in the hope of a blissful immortality did Whitefield enter upon the year 1755. Early in the month of January, he made his way to Virginia, a province which he had visited in 1746. For nearly eight years, the Rev. Samuel Davies had been labouring here with self-consuming earnestness. His eloquent, faithful, and powerful preaching had been bitterly opposed; but it had been attended with great success. His home was at Hanover, about twelve miles from Richmond; and, as early as 1748, he had collected seven congregations, which assembled in seven meeting-houses duly licensed, some of them, however, being forty miles distant from each other. In three years, he had obtained three hundred communicants, and had baptized forty slaves. He had had a long controversy with the Episcopalians, who denied that the English Act of Toleration extended to Virginia; and, with great learning and eloquence, he had contended the point in the Virginian court, with the famous Peyton Randolph, first President of the American Congress. During his visit to England, in 1754, he had obtained, from the English Attorney-General, a declaration that the Toleration Act did extend to Virginia, which, of course, gave him greater confidence in the legality of his proceedings. Besides this, in 1751, a new governor of the province had been appointed, whom Whitefield and his friends expected to be more favourable to evangelistic efforts than his predecessor had been. Robert Dinwiddie was brother-in-law of Whitefield’s old friend, the Rev. Mr. McCulloch, of Cambuslang. He had been clerk to a collector of customs, in the West Indies, whose enormous frauds he detected, and exposed to the Government; and, for this disclosure, was rewarded by the appointment to Virginia. In a letter to Mr. McCulloch, dated “July 19, 1751,” Whitefield wrote:――

“Mr. Davies’s one congregation is multiplied to seven. He desires liberty to license more houses, and to preach occasionally to all, as there is no minister but himself. This, though allowed in England, is denied in Virginia, which grieves the people very much. The commissary is one of the council, and, with the rest of his brethren, no friend to the Dissenters. The late governor was like-minded. I, therefore, think Mr. Dinwiddie is raised up to succeed him, in order to befriend the Church of God, and the interest of Christ’s people. They desire no other privileges than what dissenting Protestants enjoy in our native country. This, I am persuaded, your brother-in-law will be glad to secure to them.”[361]

Under these altered circumstances, Whitefield met with a most favourable reception. Hence the following extracts from his letters. The first is taken from a letter to Charles Wesley:――

“January 14, 1755. I suppose my circuit already has been two thousand miles; and, before I reach Bethesda, a journey of six hundred more lies before me. Scenes of wonder have opened all the way. A thousandth part cannot be told. In Virginia, the prospect is very promising. I have preached in two churches, and, this morning, am to preach in a third. Rich and poor seem quite ready to hear. Many have been truly awakened.”[362]

“Virginia, January 13. I have not been here a week, and have had the comfort of seeing many impressed under the word every day. Two churches have been opened, and a third (Richmond) I am to preach in to-morrow. I find prejudices subside, and some of the rich and great begin to think favourably of the work of God. Several of the lower class have been with me, acknowledging what the Lord did for them when I was here before.”

“Virginia, January 17. I am now on the borders of North Carolina, and, after preaching to-morrow in a neighbouring church, I purpose to take my leave of Virginia. Had I not been detained so long northward, what a wide and effectual door might have been opened. Here, as well as elsewhere, rich and poor flock to hear the everlasting gospel. Many have come forty or fifty miles; and a spirit of conviction and consolation seemed to go through all the assemblies. Colonel R――――, a person of distinction, opened one church for me, invited me to his house, and introduced me himself to the reading desk. Blessed be God, I see a vast alteration for the better. O for more time, and for more souls and bodies! Lord Jesus, twenty times ten thousand are too few for Thee!”

Of Whitefield’s ride from Virginia to Georgia, no record now exists; neither is there any information respecting his work at Bethesda. As usual, his sojourn at the Orphan House was brief; for, on February 26th, he had returned to Charleston, whence, towards the end of March, he embarked for England. The following are extracts from two letters addressed to his housekeeper at Bethesda:――

“Charleston, March 3, 1755. Through Divine goodness, we arrived here last Wednesday afternoon. On Thursday, Mr. E―――― was solemnly ordained. The trials I have met with have brought my old vomitings upon me. My soul has been pierced with many sorrows. But, I believe, all is intended for my good. Amidst all, I am comforted at the present situation of Bethesda. I hope you will walk in love, and that the children will grow in years and grace. I pray for you all, night and day.”

“Charleston, March 17, 1755. Had I wings like a dove, how often would I have fled to Bethesda, since my departure from it! I could almost say, that the last few hours I was there were superior in satisfaction to any hours I ever enjoyed. But I must go about my heavenly Father’s business. For this, I am a poor, but willing pilgrim, and give up all that is near and dear to me on this side of eternity. This week, I expect to embark in the Friendship, Captain Ball; but am glad of the letters from Bethesda before I start. They made ♦me weep, and caused me to throw myself prostrate before the prayer-hearing and promise-keeping God. He will give strength, He will give power. Fear not. You are now, I believe, where the Lord would have you be, and all will be well. I repose the utmost confidence in you, and believe I shall not be disappointed of my hope. I should have been glad if the apples had been sent in the boat; they would have been useful in the voyage. But Jesus can stay me with better apples. May you and all my dear family have plenty of these! I imagine it will not be long before I return from England.”

Whitefield set sail about March 27th; and, after a six weeks’ voyage, landed at Newhaven, on the 8th of May. More than eight years elapsed before his next visit to America.

EIGHT YEARS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.

1755 TO 1763.

WHITEFIELD and the Wesleys were now not the only evangelical clergymen in London. Not to mention others, there was the Rev. Thomas Jones, of St. Saviour’s, Southwark,――a young man of feeble health, but whose preaching was characterised by great eloquence and power. There was the Rev. Martin Madan, founder and first chaplain of the Lock Hospital, near Hyde Park Corner. And there was the Rev. William Romaine, who had been at Oxford at the same time Whitefield and the Wesleys were, but without becoming an Oxford Methodist,――one of the most popular preachers in the metropolis, and now curate of St. Olave’s, Southwark. The ministry of such men occasioned Whitefield unmingled joy. One of his first letters, after his arrival in England, was addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon, in which, with a full heart, he wrote: “Glad am I to hear that so many have lately been stirred up to preach the crucified Saviour. Surely that Scripture must be fulfilled, ‘And many of the priests also were obedient to the word.’ The work is of God, and therefore must prosper.”

In a letter to Governor Belcher, on the same subject, he remarked:――

“London, May 14, 1755. The word has still free course in this metropolis. The poor, despised Methodists are as lively as ever; and, in several churches, the gospel is now preached with power. Many in Oxford are awakened to a knowledge of the truth; and, almost every week, I have heard of some fresh minister, who seems determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified.”

This was a most important movement,――the commencement of that great change which gradually came over the Church of England, until hundreds of its pulpits were filled with converted men, weekly preaching the doctrines which Whitefield and the Wesleys preached. For sixteen years, the three Methodist itinerants had been scattering seed, which, in many thousands of instances, had sprung up, and was bearing fruit; but now a new fact occurred,――the seed-sowers were being multiplied. In a letter to a lady, in 1752, stating the case of a poor divinity student, who needed help, Whitefield wrote: “Every student’s name is Legion. Helping one of these, is helping thousands.” No wonder that he now exulted in the increase of gospel ministers.

During his recent visit to America, the Rev. Aaron Burr and the trustees of New Jersey College conferred on Whitefield an M.A. degree. Within a week after his return to England, Whitefield commenced an endeavour to return the compliment. He had formed a high opinion of Mr. Burr, and wished him to be honoured; but, apart from this, he doubtless thought that the college would be helped if its president were made a doctor of divinity. The Marquis of Lothian had been a generous benefactor of the college, and, through him, Whitefield hoped to procure the coveted distinction. In a letter to the Marquis, he spoke of the college as “the purest seminary” he had known, and added, “If the degree of doctor of divinity could be procured for Mr. Burr, the present president, it would make an addition to its honours.” The Marquis replied, “The University of Edinburgh desire me to obtain some account of Mr. Burr’s literature, or performances. This I hope you will send; and a diploma will be immediately transmitted.” Whitefield’s answer, which deserves insertion, was as follows:――

“Mr. Burr was educated at Yale College, in Connecticut, New England; and, for his pregnant abilities and well-approved piety, was unanimously chosen to succeed the Rev. Mr. Dickinson,[363] in the care of New Jersey College. It would have delighted your lordship to have seen how gloriously he filled the chair last year, at the New Jersey commencement. His Latin oration was beautifully elegant, and was delivered with unaffected, yet striking energy and pathos. As a preacher, disputant, and head of a college, he shines in North America; and the present prosperity of New Jersey College is greatly owing to his learning, piety, and conduct. The students revere and love him. Your lordship might have testimonials enough from good Governor Belcher, Mr. Jonathan Edwards,[364] cum multis aliis. I believe they would all concur in saying that, of his age, now upwards of forty, there is not a more accomplished deserving president in the world. As for anything of his in print, that can be referred to, I can say nothing, except a little pamphlet lately published,[365] in which he has animated the people against the common enemy, and discovered a close attachment to the interest of our rightful sovereign, King George. This piece of Mr. Burr’s I have in London, and hope it is in Scotland. I wish the diploma may be transmitted against the next commencement. It will endear your lordship more and more to the good people of America.”[366]

To say the least, there was a great amount of large-heartedness in this attempt to distinguish the college of a church with which Whitefield was not officially connected.

After his arrival in England, Whitefield spent about six weeks in London, where his preaching was as popular as ever. Writing to the Countess of Huntingdon, on May 27th, he said:――

“What a blessed week have we had! Sinners have come like a cloud, and fled like doves to the windows. What a happiness is it to be absorbed and swallowed up in God! To have no schemes, no views, but to promote the common salvation! This be my happy lot!”

In another letter, dated “London, June 7th,” he wrote:――

“It will rejoice you to hear that the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ gets ground apace. Several of the clergy, both in town and country, have been lately stirred up to preach Christ crucified, in the demonstration of the Spirit, and with power. This excites the enmity of the old Serpent. The greatest venom is spit against Mr. Romaine, who, having been reputed a great scholar, is now looked upon and treated as a great fool, because he himself is made wise unto salvation, and is earnestly desirous that others should be. Methinks I hear you say, ‘O happy folly!’ May this blessed leaven diffuse itself through the whole nation! The prospect is promising. Many students at Oxford are earnestly learning Christ. Dear Mr. Hervey has learnt and preached Him some years. As for myself, I can only say, ‘Less than the least of all,’ must be my motto still. I labour but feebly, and yet Jesus owns my labours. People still flock to the gospel, like doves to the windows. Will you be pleased to accept of my Lisbon letters?[367] My little Communion book is not yet out. God be praised! there is a time coming when we shall need books and ordinances no more, but shall be admitted into uninterrupted communion and fellowship with the blessed Trinity for ever.”

The “little Communion book” here mentioned was a 12mo. volume, of 140 pages, with the following title: “A Communion Morning’s Companion. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1755.” The book consists of: 1. Meditations on the five last Questions and Answers of the Catechism of the Church of England. Extracted from Bishop Ken. 2. The Order for Administration of the Lord’s Supper. After the pattern of Bishop Wilson. 3. Fifty-nine Sacramental Hymns, and seventeen Doxologies, extracted from several authors. Except a few written by the Wesleys, most of the hymns are pious doggerel. The extracts from Ken and Wilson are intensely religious, and, to a devout mind, must be useful. The book had an extensive sale. As early as 1758, it had passed through a third edition; The following is taken from Whitefield’s preface:――

“There is but little in this ‘Communion Morning’s Companion’ of my own; and, as it is intended purely for the assistance of the professed members of the Church of England, I thought it most advisable to extract the meditations and practical remarks on the public form of administration from our own bishops. I particularly fixed on Bishop Ken, not only because his sweet meditations on the Redeemer’s passion were some of the first things that made a religious impression on my own soul, but because he was one of those seven bishops who were sent to the Tower for making a noble stand against popish tyranny and arbitrary power in the latter end of the reign of King James the Second. Imagining that the words ‘real presence,’ though evidently meant by the good bishop only of the Redeemer’s spiritual presence (which is all the presence I know of), might stumble some, I erased them, and also made a few alterations in some other passages, which, by some, might be judged objectionable.

“As for those who are against any offices or set forms at all, I shall only say, ‘Let not him who useth a form judge him who useth it not; and let not him who useth it not despise him who doth use it.’ Though I profess myself a minister of the Established Church, and never yet renounced her articles, homilies, or liturgy, I can and, if God’s providence direct my course thither again, shall join in occasional communion with the churches of New England and Scotland, being persuaded there are as many faithful ministers among them as in any parts of the known world.”

About the middle of the month of June, Whitefield set out on a three weeks’ tour to Gloucester, Bristol, and the west of England. “Thousands and thousands,” says he, “flocked in Gloucestershire; and here, in Bristol, the congregations fall little short of those in London.” At Bath, he preached several times in the house of Lady Gertrude Hotham; Lord Chesterfield, Mrs. Grinfield, Mrs. Bevan,[368] and other members of the aristocracy being among his hearers.

On the 1st of July, Lady Anne Hastings, after a short illness, was removed to her eternal rest, in the sixty-fifth year of her age.[369] Whitefield heard of this event at Bristol, and, on his return to London, wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, July 11, 1755.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Yesterday, about noon, after being worn down with travelling, and preaching twice and thrice a day in Gloucestershire, at Bath, and Bristol, a gracious Providence brought me to town. At Bristol, I heard of the death of good Lady Anne. Alas! how many has your ladyship lived to see go before you! An earnest this, I hope, that you are to live to a good old age, and be more and more a mother in Israel. A short, but sweet character. God knows how long I am to drag this crazy load, my body, along. Blessed be His holy name! I have not one attachment to earth. I am sick of myself, sick of the world, sick of the Church, and am panting daily after the full enjoyment of my God. John Cennick is now added to the happy number of those who are called to see Him as He is.[370] I do not envy, but I want to follow after him.

“The fields at Bristol and Kingswood were whiter and more ready to harvest than for many years past. If the new Tabernacle at Bristol were as large as that in London, it would be filled. Thrice last Sunday, and twice the Sunday before, I preached in the fields to many, many thousands. At Bath, we had good seasons. Good Lady Gertrude, Mrs. Bevan, and Mrs. Grinfield, were very hearty. God was with us of a truth. O for an humble, thankful heart! I am now looking up for direction what course to steer next. I suppose it will be northward.”

Whitefield spent about another month in London. It was at this period that Cornelius Winter, then a boy in the thirteenth year of his age, was induced to hear Whitefield preach. Cornelius was an orphan, whose father had been a shoemaker, and his mother a laundress. At the age of eight, he was admitted into the Charity School of St. Andrew’s, Holborn. He then became the inmate of a workhouse. When his “schooling closed,” he “had merely learned to write, without being set to put three figures together, or to learn one line in any of the tables.” The half-hungered child next became errand boy, and a sort of general drudge in the kitchen and the workshop of a distant relative, Mr. Winter, watergilder, in Bunhill Row. His master was bad-tempered, and a drunkard, and often beat young Cornelius so unmercifully that the lad sometimes wished to die. The boy regularly attended the Church of St. Luke, in Old Street, but says, he had “strong prejudices against the Methodists and Dissenters.” “However,” he writes, “when my clothes were disgracefully bad, which was sometimes the case, I absconded from my own church, and occasionally wandered into a meeting-house. At last, I got to hear Mr. Whitefield, and was particularly struck with the largeness of the congregation, the solemnity that sat upon it, the melody of the singing, and Mr. Whitefield’s striking appearance, and his earnestness in preaching. From this time, I embraced all opportunities to hear him.”[371]

Whitefield remained in London till the commencement of the month of August, when, unexpectedly, he was requested, by Colonel and Mrs. Galatin, and the Countess of Huntingdon, to go to Norwich, and re-open the Tabernacle built for Wheatley, Wesley’s expelled itinerant preacher. Wesley already had a mongrel Society in Norwich, and disapproved of Whitefield’s preaching in an apparently opposition chapel.[372] He complained to Whitefield, who replied as follows:――

“NORWICH, August 9, 1755.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――Till Tuesday evening” (August 5th) “I knew no more of coming to Norwich than a child unborn. Had I been well enough, and my private business permitted, I should have been some miles on my way towards Donington Park. This I told Mr. Hartley, and acquainted him with every step. He should have written himself, and not retailed our conversation. As I expect to be in town some time next week, I choose to defer writing more till we have a personal interview. My time is too precious to be employed in hearkening to, or vindicating myself against, the false and invidious insinuations of narrow and low-life informers. Never was I more satisfied of my call to any place than of my present call to Norwich. The Redeemer knows the way that I take. I came hither purely for His glory, without the least design to make a party for myself, or to please or displease any other party whatsoever. In this way, and in this spirit, through His divine assistance, I hope to go on. Blessed be His name! I trust my feeble labours have not been in vain. Sin, I hope, has been prevented, errors detected, sinners convicted, saints edified, and my own soul sweetly refreshed. But I must add no more. That Jesus may give us all a right judgment in all things, and keep all parties from giving a wrong touch to the ark, is and shall be the constant prayer of, reverend and dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

The Society at Norwich were the most refractory set of Methodists in the United Kingdom. It would be a bootless task to write their history. Suffice it to say, that Whitefield was satisfied with his visit. “Here,” says he, “there has undoubtedly been a glorious work of God. Twice a day, both gentle and simple flock to hear the word; and, I think, it comes with power.”[373] “Notwithstanding offences have come, I scarce ever preached a week together with greater freedom.”[374] After he left, the Rev. William Cudworth took his place, and, henceforth, became Wesley’s enemy, and the dangerous friend of the gentle Hervey. Cudworth was assisted by Wheatley and Robert Robinson, the latter a youth of twenty, but afterwards the famous Baptist minister at Cambridge. They established preaching stations in the surrounding villages; and, at Forncett, about twelve miles from Norwich, a Tabernacle was erected. About five years after this, from 1758 to 1763, the Norwich Tabernacle seems to have been occupied by Wesley and the preachers in connection with him. He then abandoned it, utterly despairing to keep in order James Wheatley’s “lambs.” Indeed, he designates them “bullocks unaccustomed to the yoke, who had never had any rule or order among them, but every man did what was right in his own eyes.” Lady Huntingdon next bought the Tabernacle for £900, and vested it in seven trustees, who were to manage its secular concerns, and appoint or dismiss its ministers at their pleasure.[375]

Notwithstanding the foregoing letter addressed to Wesley, there continued to be misgiving. It also seems that, at first, Cudworth and Wheatley found it difficult to co-operate. When Whitefield got back to London, he wrote, as follows, to the turbulent Norwich Methodists:――

“LONDON, August 26, 1755.

“MY DEAR FRIENDS,――I received your kind letters, and likewise one from Mr. Wheatley; and, last night, a long one from Mr. Cudworth; but, alas! I have no time for controversy. To their own Master they must both either stand or fall. All I can say, in your present circumstances, is, that you had best make a trial, and let matters, for a while, stand as they are. I have sent letters, if possible, to prevent the spreading, at least the publishing, of any further tales. Meanwhile, do you strengthen yourselves in the Lord your God. The cause is His. I believe you honestly embarked in it, for His great name’s sake, and He will help you out of all. To-morrow, I must away to the north. Follow me with your prayers; and assure yourselves that you and yours, and the dear people of Norwich, will not be forgotten by me. If ever the Redeemer should bring me thither again, I can then converse with Mr. Wheatley and Mr. Cudworth face to face; but I beg to be excused from writing, when I think, by so doing, I can do no service. The Lord clothe us all with humility, and give us all true simplicity and godly sincerity!”

On August 27, Whitefield left London for the north of England. On his way, he spent two or three days with his friend Hervey, at the rectory of Weston-Favell. Hervey had just published, in three octavo volumes, his “Theron and Aspasio,” part of which work had been submitted to Wesley in manuscript, for his revision. Wesley and Hervey had already become alienated, for Wesley had made more corrections in the manuscript than Hervey liked. At all events, on January 9, 1755, Hervey wrote to Lady Frances Shirley: “Mr. John Wesley takes me roundly to task on the score of predestination; at which I am much surprised, because this doctrine (be it true or false) makes no part of my scheme. I cannot but fear he has some sinister design. I do not charge such an artifice, but sometimes I cannot help forming a suspicion.”[376] In the interval, Wesley had written to Hervey a long letter, freely animadverting on “Theron and Aspasio,” and begging him to lay aside the phrase, “the imputed righteousness of Christ,” adding, “It is not scriptural, it is not necessary, it has done immense hurt.” Hervey, for once in his lovely life, neglected to exercise his natural gentleness. Wesley’s letter offended him, and he declined to acknowledge it; but, whilst Whitefield was his guest, he wrote to his Baptist friend, the Rev. John Ryland: “I find, by private intelligence, that Mr. Wesley has shewn his letter in London, and has thought proper to animadvert upon me, by name, from his pulpit.”

There can be little doubt that Whitefield was Hervey’s informant. Affairs among these old Oxford Methodists were in a ticklish state. It is a mournful fact, that, chiefly through the machinations of William Cudworth, the friendship between Hervey and Wesley was not renewed; but it was otherwise with the large-hearted Whitefield. In his Journal, under the date, November 5th, 1755, Wesley wrote: “Mr. Whitefield called upon me; disputings are now no more; we love one another, and join hand in hand to promote the cause of our common Master.” Charles Wesley, also, wrote to his old friend a poetical epistle,[377] breathing with Christian love, from which the following lines are taken:――

“Come on, my Whitefield! (since the strife is past, And friends at first are friends again at last,) Our hands, and hearts, and counsels let us join In mutual league, t’ advance the work divine; Our one contention now, our single aim, To pluck poor souls as brands out of the flame; To spread the victory of that bloody cross, And gasp our latest breath in the Redeemer’s cause.

* * * * *

“In a strange land I stood, And beckon’d thee to cross th’ Atlantic flood: With true affection wing’d, thy ready mind Left country, fame, and ease, and friends behind, And, eager all heaven’s counsels to explore, Flew through the watery world and grasp’d the shore. Nor did I linger, at my friend’s desire, To tempt the furnace, and abide the fire: When suddenly sent forth, from the highways I call’d poor outcasts to the feast of grace; Urg’d to pursue the work, by thee begun, Through good and ill report, I still rush’d on, Nor felt the fire of popular applause, Nor fear’d the torturing flame in such a glorious cause.

* * * * *

“One in His hand, O may we still remain, Fast bound with love’s indissoluble chain; (That adamant which time and death defies, That golden chain which draws us to the skies!) His love the tie that binds us to His throne, His love the bond that perfects us in one; His love, (let all the ground of friendship see,) His only love constrains our hearts t’ agree, And gives the rivet of eternity!”

Just at the time when Whitefield left America, the ministers of George the Second announced to Parliament that a war with France was inevitable. The Committee of Supply eagerly voted a million of money for the defence of their American possessions; and Admiral Boscawen was sent with a fleet towards the Gulf of St. Lawrence, to intercept a French fleet which had been prepared in the forts of Rochefort and Brest, and which was carrying reinforcements to the French Canadians. America was now in martial confusion. Among others, Whitefield’s old friend Sir William Pepperell had gone to the field of action; and Whitefield, while a guest at Hervey’s, wrote to Lady Pepperell and her daughter, to cheer them in the colonel’s absence, as follows:――

“WESTON-FAVELL, August 30, 1755.

“DEAR MISS,――A few days past, as I was going into the Tabernacle to read letters, yours came to hand. Immediately, I read it among the rest, and you and my other New England friends had the prayers of thousands. How did I wish to be transported to America! How did I long to stir up all against the common enemy, and to be made instrumental of doing my dear country some little service! Dear New England,――dear Boston lies upon my heart! Surely the Lord will not give it over into the hands of the enemy. He has too many praying ministers and praying people there, for such a dreadful catastrophe.”

“WESTON-FAVELL, August 30, 1755.

“DEAR MADAM,――I find you are once more called to give up your honoured husband for his country’s good. The God whom you serve will richly reward you for such a sacrifice, and be better to you than seven husbands. I long to hear that he is returned victorious. He is gone upon a good cause, and under the conduct of the best general, even the Captain of our salvation. To Him I am praying, night and day, for the temporal and spiritual welfare of dear, never-to-be-forgotten New England. Courage, dear madam, courage! A few more partings, a few more changes, a few more heart-breakings, heart-purifying trials, and we shall be safely landed.”

Such were Whitefield’s feelings at the commencement of the Seven Years’ War, which was ended by the Peace of Paris, February 10, 1763. The terrific strife kept Whitefield from his beloved America for the space of eight long years, and, during this lengthened period, many and great were his anxieties concerning his Orphan House, and his transatlantic friends; but more of this anon. An extract from another letter, written at Hervey’s, and addressed to a rich, but miserly American, is too characteristic to be omitted.

“WESTON-FAVELL, August 30, 1755.

“Your friends everywhere take notice, that the sin which doth most easily beset you is a too great love of money; and this, in many cases, makes you act an unfriendly part. If God should suffer our enemies to prevail, you will wish you had laid up more treasure in heaven. Blessed be God, mine is out of the reach of men or devils. Strange that five per cent. from man should be preferred to a hundredfold from Christ! A word to the wise is sufficient. I am looking out for more news from dear America. May the late defeat be sanctified! Adieu, my dear Mr. V――――! Non magna loquimur, non magna scribimus, sed vivimus, is the Christian’s motto. Mr. D―――― can English it.”

On Sunday, August 31st, Whitefield preached twice, not in his friend Hervey’s church, but at Northampton. He then proceeded to Lady Huntingdon’s, at Donington Park. At Liverpool, on September 12th, “some fallow ground was broken up;” at Bolton, “the cup of many ran over;” at Manchester, “people heard most gladly;” at Leeds and Bradford, “what many felt was unutterable;” and at York, “a smart gentleman was touched.” On reaching Newcastle-on-Tyne, Whitefield wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon, as follows:――

“NEWCASTLE, September 24, 1755.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――I know not how long it is since I left your ladyship; but this I know, a sense of the satisfaction I felt when at Donington still lies upon my heart. Were I not called to public work, waiting upon, and administering to your ladyship in holy offices would be my choice and highest privilege.

“The only new ground that has been broken up is Liverpool. There the prospect is promising. I preached in a great square on the Lord’s-day, and the alarm, I hear, went through the town. At Bolton, the cup of God’s people ran over; and at Manchester we had large auditories and blessed seasons. At Leeds, we felt what is unutterable; and at Bradford, last Sunday, the congregation consisted of at least ten thousand.[378] But, oh, how has my pleasure been alloyed at Leeds! I rejoiced there with trembling; for, unknown to me, they had almost finished a large house, in order to form a separate congregation.[379] If this scheme succeeds, an awful separation, I fear, will take place amongst the Societies.[380] I have written to Mr. Wesley, and have done all I could to prevent it. O this self-love, this self-will! It is the devil of devils!

“I write this from Newcastle, where the people, twice a day, hear the gospel gladly. What to do now, I know not. Calls on all sides are very loud, and it is too late to go either to Ireland or Scotland. O my God! winter is at hand, and, in the summer, how little has been done for Thee! I cannot bear to live at this poor dying rate.”

Whitefield spent ten or a dozen days in the neighbourhood of Newcastle, and then set out for London, where he arrived on October 30th. The following are extracts from his letters:――

“LONDON, October 31, 1755.

“Last night, a never-failing God brought me from the north of England, where I have been enabled to preach twice and thrice a day to many, many thousands, for two months past. And yet I cannot die. Nay, they tell me I grow fat. Never did I see the word more blessed, or so many thousands run after it with greater greediness. Next to inviting them to Christ, I have always taken care to exhort them to pray for King George, and our dear friends in America.”

“LONDON, November 1, 1755.

“On Thursday evening, I came to town, after having preached about a hundred times, and travelled about eight hundred miles. For more than ten days together, I preached thrice a day. O that I could preach three hundred times! All would be infinitely too little to testify my love to Jesus. After about a week’s stay here, I hope to move westward. O winter! winter! Haste and fly, that I may again set out! Yesterday, I waited upon the Countess Delitz, and, on Thursday, I am to dine with her ladyship.”

“LONDON, November 8, 1755.

“I hear you have been sitting night and day in council. All we can do on this side the water is to pray. This, I trust, thousands are doing every day. I seldom preach without mentioning dear New England. Blessed be God! the prospect is promising here. In the north of England, the word runs and is glorified more than ever. In London, people flock like doves to the windows.”

To Lady Huntingdon, who had gone to Clifton Hotwells, Bristol, Whitefield wrote:――

“LONDON, November 10, 1755.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Your ladyship’s kind and condescending letter found me just returned from Chatham. The court, in the best sense of the word, is now removed to Clifton. For there only is the real court kept, where Jesus reigns, and where He has erected a spiritual kingdom in the heart. All besides this is only tinsel and glitter. Here alone is real and abiding happiness to be found. O for further searches into the heights and depths of God! O for further leadings into the chambers of that selfish, sensual, and devilish imagery, that yet lie latent in my partly renewed heart! This self-love, what a Proteus! This self-will, what a Hydra! This remaining body of sin and death, what an Antichrist! what a scarlet whore! what a hell! what a red dragon! what a cursed monster is it! How hard, how slow, he dies! O what gratitude do I owe to the Bruiser of this serpent’s head! O for a heart gladly to embrace every cross, every trying dispensation, that may have a tendency to poison, or starve the old man, and cherish, promote, or cause to bloom and blossom the graces and tempers of the new! Ordinances, providences, doctrines are of no service to believers, except as they are attended with this mortifying and life-giving power. Happy family, who have this one thing in view! Happy retirement, that is improved to this blessed purpose! Happy, therefore, good Lady Huntingdon, and the other elect ladies, who are determined thus to go hand in hand to heaven! All hail, ye new-born, heaven-born souls! Ye know, by happy experience, that Jesus is an inward as well as outward Saviour. Were even annihilation to follow death, who would not but have this redemption whilst they live? But glory, glory be to God! it is only the dawning of an eternal day, the beginning of a life that is ere long to be absorbed in never-ceasing, uninterrupted fruition of the ever-blessed Triune Deity. O the depth, the height of this love of God! It passeth human and angelic knowledge. My paper only permits me to add, that I am, ever-honoured madam,

“Your ladyship’s most dutiful and ready servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Soon after this, Whitefield joined her ladyship at Bristol, where he spent about a month, but, to a great extent, was prevented preaching. Hence the following:――

“BRISTOL, November 30.

“For near ten days past, I have preached in pain, occasioned by a sore throat, which I find now is the beginning of a quinsy. The doctor tells me silence and warmth may cure me; but (if I had my will) heaven is my choice, especially if I can speak no longer for my God on earth. However, painful as the medicine of silence is, I have promised to be very obedient, and, therefore, I have not preached this morning.”

Whitefield returned to London towards the end of December, and closed the year by writing to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, December 31, 1755.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Your ladyship’s kind and condescending letter should not have been so long unanswered, had not bodily weakness, and my Christmas labours, prevented my writing. It has been a joyful-mourning season. Saturday last being my birthday, my soul was deeply exercised, from morning till evening, in thinking how much, in one-and-forty years, I had sinned against God, and how little I have done for Him. This impression yet lies deep upon my heart, and, therefore, I purpose to end the old year by preaching on these words, ‘I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.’ O that all things belonging to the old man may die in me, and all things belonging to the new man may live and grow in me! But, alas! this is a work of time. Every day and every hour must we be passing from death to life. Mortification and vivification make up the whole of the Divine work in the new-born soul.

“But shall I conceal the goodness of my long-suffering Master? No, I dare not; for, in spite of my unworthiness, He still continues to smile upon my poor ministrations. A noble chapel is now opened in Long Acre, where I am to read prayers and preach twice a week. Hundreds went away last night, who could not come in; but those who could, I trust, met with Jesus.”

Long Acre has just been mentioned,――Long Acre, with the London theatres on the left, and Wesley’s West Street chapel on the right,――then a fashionable street; now, to a great extent, consisting of workshops for making and exhibiting all kinds of carriages. In the theatres, John Rich, the harlequin, with a kind of dumb eloquence, was electrifying his audiences by the mere gesticulations of his body. Catherine Clive was cleverly acting the characters of chambermaids, fashionable ladies, country girls, romps, hoydens, dowdies, superannuated beauties, viragoes, and humorists. David Garrick, who once said “I would give a hundred guineas if I could only say ‘Oh!’ like Mr. Whitefield,” was the celebrated manager of the theatre in Drury Lane. Margaret Woffington was an admired favourite at Covent Garden. And Samuel Foote was at the height of his popularity.

The chapel in Long Acre[381] was rented by the Rev. John Barnard, one of Whitefield’s early converts, who was now an Independent minister, but afterwards became a Sandemanian, and was ultimately expelled by that Society for entertaining too exalted notions of his preaching powers.[382]

The Dean of Westminster, who, in some capacity, claimed some sort of clerical jurisdiction in Long Acre, was Zachary Pearce, D.D., the son of a distiller in Holborn; from 1748 to 1756, was Bishop of Bangor; and, afterwards, Bishop of Rochester;――an accomplished scholar, a perspicuous writer, a feeble orator, an active prelate, and a hearty hater of the Methodists.

Whitefield had long wished to have a West-end chapel, which might serve as the meeting-house, not only of the rich in general, but especially of the distinguished persons who were accustomed to assemble in the mansions of the Countess of Huntingdon, Lady Frances Shirley, and Lady Gertrude Hotham.

These brief memoranda will help to explain the allusions in the following extracts from Whitefield’s letters.

The first is taken from a letter addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“London, January 22, 1756. Ever since I came from the north, I have had a violent cold and sore throat, which threatened an inflammatory quinsy. One physician prescribed a perpetual blister, but I have found perpetual preaching to be a better remedy. When this grand catholicon fails, it is over with me. You will pray that, if I must put out to sea again, it may be to take fresh prizes for my God. Every day brings us fresh news of newly awakened souls. Both at this and the other end of the town (where I now preach in a chapel twice a week), there is a glorious stirring among the dry bones.”

The next is from a letter written to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“London, January 29, 1756. I know not how soon I may be called before my superiors. The sons of Jubal and Cain continue to serenade me at Long Acre chapel. They have been called before a justice; and, yesterday, the Bishop of Bangor sent for them, and enquired where I lived. My house is pretty public, and the ‘Bishop of souls’ shall answer for me. One, who subscribes to hire men to make the noise, has been pricked to the heart, and can have no rest till he speaks with me. Thus Jesus gets Himself the victory. One of the enclosed extracts comes from a person who, a few weeks ago, was a confirmed Deist; now, I trust, he is a little child. The Redeemer speaks, and it is done; He commands, and new creatures instantaneously arise before Him.”

Did these “sons of Jubal and Cain” belong to the adjoining theatres? Perhaps they did. Still, it is curious that Wesley, in West Street chapel, had never been disturbed by their unwelcome serenading; and it is equally remarkable, that though Bishop Pearce did his utmost to silence Whitefield in Long Acre, he seems not at all to have interfered with Wesley in a neighbouring street. The annoyance, to Whitefield and his West-end congregation, was great; but he was more wishful to convert the serenaders than to punish them. Hence the following, addressed to the gentleman who had brought some of the disturbers before a magistrate:――

“January 30. Gratitude constrains me to send you a few lines of thanks for the care and zeal you have exercised in suppressing the late disorders at Long Acre chapel. I hear that some unhappy man has incurred the penalty inflicted by our salutary laws. As peace, not revenge, is the thing aimed at, I should rejoice if this could be procured without the delinquents suffering any further punishment. Perhaps what has been done already may be sufficient to deter others from any further illegal proceedings; and that will be satisfaction enough for me.”

But for the meddling of Bishop Pearce, it is possible, perhaps probable, that these disreputable disturbances might have ceased; but, two days after writing thus to the gentleman who had commenced a prosecution of the noisy musicians, Whitefield received a letter from the Bishop, in which he prohibited Whitefield’s further preaching in the Long Acre chapel. This led to an important correspondence between the prelate and the preacher. Whether his lordship had a legal right to issue such a prohibition, ecclesiastical lawyers must determine; but, to say the least, his action had the appearance of episcopal persecution. The Bishop’s letters to Whitefield have not been published; for, with contemptible cowardice, Pearce informed Whitefield that, if he dared to publish them, he must be prepared to undergo the penalty due to the infringement of “the privilege of a peer!” Still, the substance of his letters may be gathered from Whitefield’s answers; and, as these answers contain an explanation and a defence of the course of conduct which Whitefield had pursued for nearly the last twenty years, they are inserted here at greater length, than, under other circumstances, they would have been.

“TABERNACLE HOUSE, February 2, 1756.

“MY LORD,――A few weeks ago, several serious persons, chosen to be a committee for one Mr. Barnard, applied to me, in the name of Jesus Christ, and a multitude of souls desirous of hearing the gospel, to preach at a place commonly called Long Acre chapel. At the same time, they acquainted me, that the place was licensed; that Mr. Barnard either had taken or was to take it for a certain term of years; that he had preached in it for a considerable time, as a Protestant Dissenting minister; but that, notwithstanding this, I might use the Liturgy if I thought proper, so that I would but come and preach once or twice a week.

“Looking upon this as a providential call from Him, who, in the days of His flesh, taught all who were willing to hear, on a mount, in a ship, or by the sea-side, I readily complied; and I humbly hope that my feeble labours have not been altogether in vain.

“This being the case, I was somewhat surprised at the prohibition I received from your lordship this evening. For, I looked upon the place as a particular person’s property; and being, as I was informed, not only unconsecrated, but also licensed according to law, I thought I might innocently preach the love of the crucified Redeemer, and loyalty to the best of princes, our dread sovereign King George, without giving any just offence to Jew or Gentile, much less to any bishop or overseer of the Church of God. As I have, therefore, given notice of preaching to-morrow evening, and every Tuesday and Thursday whilst I am in town, I hope your lordship will not look upon it as contumacy, if I persist in prosecuting my design, till I am more particularly apprized wherein I have erred.

“Controversy, my lord, is what I abhor; and, as raising popular clamours and ecclesiastical dissensions must be quite unseasonable, especially at this juncture, when France and Rome, and hell ought to be the common butt of our resentment, I hope your lordship will be so good as to inform yourself and me more particularly about this matter; and, upon due consideration, as I have no design but to do good to precious souls, I promise to submit. But, if your lordship should judge it best to decline this method, and I should be called to answer for my conduct, either before a spiritual court, or from the press, I trust the irregularity I am charged with will appear justifiable to every true lover of English liberty, and (what is all to me) will be approved of at the awful and impartial tribunal of the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, in obedience to whom I beg leave to subscribe myself, your lordship’s most dutiful son and servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

The Bishop of Bangor replied to this straightforward letter; but, of course, his threat, as a peer of the realm, suppressed his communication. Whitefield’s next letter was as follows:――

“TABERNACLE HOUSE, February 16, 1756.

“MY LORD,――I this evening received your lordship’s kind letter; and, though it is late, and nature calls for rest, I now sit down to give your lordship an explicit answer.

“God can witness, that I entered into holy orders, according to the form of ordination of the Church of England, with a disinterested view to promote His glory, and the welfare of precious and immortal souls. For near twenty years, as thousands can testify, I have conscientiously defended her Homilies and Articles, and, upon all occasions, have spoken well of her Liturgy. So far from renouncing these, together with her discipline, I earnestly pray for the due restoration of the one, and daily lament the departure of too many from the other. But, my lord, what can I do?

“When I acted in the most regular manner, and when I was bringing multitudes, even of Dissenters, to crowd the churches, without any other reason being given than that too many followed after me, I was denied the use of the churches. Being thus excluded, and many thousands of ignorant souls, that perhaps would neither go to church nor meeting-houses, being very hungry after the gospel, I thought myself bound in duty to deal out to them the bread of life.

“Being further ambitious to serve my God, my king, and my country, I sacrificed my affections, and left my native soil, in order to begin and carry on an Orphan House in the infant colony of Georgia, which is now put upon a good foundation. This served as an introduction, though without design, to my visiting the other parts of his Majesty’s dominions in North America; and I humbly hope that many in that foreign clime will be my joy and crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus.

“Nay, my lord, if I were not assured that the blessed Redeemer has owned me for the real conversion and turning of many from darkness to light, the weakness of my decaying body, the temptations that have beset my soul, and the violent opposition with which I have met, would long since have led me to accept some of those offers that have been made me to nestle, and by accepting which I might have screened myself from the obloquy and contempt which, in some degree or other, I meet with every day. But, hitherto, without eating a morsel of the Church of England’s bread, I still continue to use her Liturgy, wherever a church or chapel is allowed me, and preach up her Articles, and enforce her Homilies. Your lordship, therefore, judgeth me exceeding right, when you say, ‘I presume you do not mean to declare any dissent from the Church of England.’ Far be it from me. No, my lord, unless thrust out, I shall never leave her; and even then I shall still adhere to her doctrines, and pray for the restoration of her discipline, to my dying day.

“Fond of displaying her truly protestant and orthodox principles, especially when Church and State are in danger from a cruel and popish enemy, I am glad of an opportunity of preaching, though it should be in a meeting-house; and I think it discovers a good and moderate spirit in the Dissenters, who quietly attend on the Church service, as many have done, and continue to do at Long Acre chapel, while many, who style themselves the faithful sons of the Church, have endeavoured to disturb and molest us.

“If the lessor of this chapel has no power to let it, or if it be not legally licensed, I have been deceived; and if, upon enquiry, I find this to be the case, I shall soon declare, in the most public manner, how I have been imposed upon. But if it appears that the lessor has a right to dispose of his own property, and that the place is licensed, and as some good, I trust, has been done by this foolishness of preaching, surely your lordship’s candour will overlook a little irregularity, since, I fear, that, in these dregs of time wherein we live, we must be obliged to be irregular, or we must do no good at all.

“My lord, I remember well (and O that I may more than ever obey your lordship’s admonition!) that awful day, wherein I was ordained priest, and when authority was given me, by my honoured friend and father, good Bishop Benson, to preach the word of God; but never did I so much as dream that this was only a local commission, or that the condition annexed, ‘Where you shall be lawfully appointed thereunto,’ was to confine me to any particular place, and that it would be unlawful for me to preach out of it. It is plain my Lord Bishop of Gloucester did not think so; for when his secretary brought a license for me, his lordship said, it would cost me thirty shillings, and therefore I should not have it. And when, after being presented to the late Bishop of London, I applied to him for a license, his lordship was pleased to say I was going to Georgia, and needed none. Accordingly, I preached in most of the London churches, under his lordship’s immediate inspection; and why any other license than my letters of orders should now be required, I believe no substantial, I am positive no scriptural, reason can be assigned.

“It is true, as your lordship observes, there is one canon that says, ‘No curate or minister shall be permitted to serve in any place, without examination and admission of the Bishop of the Diocese.’ And there is another, as quoted by your lordship, which tells us, ‘Neither minister, churchwarden, nor any other officers of the Church shall suffer any man to preach within their chapels, but such as, by shewing their license to preach, shall appear unto them to be sufficiently authorised thereunto.’ But, my lord, what curacy or parsonage have I desired, or do I desire to be admitted to serve in? or, into what church or chapel do I attempt to intrude myself, without leave from the churchwardens or other officers? Being, as I think, without cause, denied admission into the churches, I am content to take the field, and, when the weather will permit, with a table for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding-board, I desire to proclaim to all the unsearchable riches of Jesus Christ. Besides, my lord, if this canon should be always put into full execution, I humbly presume, no bishop or presbyter can legally preach at any time out of the diocese in which he is appointed to serve; and, consequently, no city incumbent can even occasionally be lawfully assisted by any country clergyman; or even can a bishop himself be lawfully permitted to preach a charity sermon out of his own diocese, without a special license for so doing.

“As for the other canon which your lordship mentions, and which runs thus, ‘Neither shall any minister, not licensed as is aforesaid, presume to appoint or hold any meetings for sermons, commonly termed, by some, prophecies or exercises, in market towns or other places, under the said pains,’――I need not inform your lordship, that it was originally levelled against those who would not conform to the Church of England, and that, too, in such high-flying times as not one of the present moderate bench of bishops would wish to see restored. If this be so, how, my lord, does this canon belong to me, who am episcopally ordained, and have very lately published a small tract recommending the communion office of the Church of England?

“But, my lord, to come nearer to the point in hand. And, for Christ’s sake, let not your lordship be offended with my using such plainness of speech. As in the presence of the living God, I would put it to your lordship’s conscience, whether there is one bishop or presbyter, in England, Wales, or Ireland, who looks upon our canons as his rule of action? If this opinion be true, we are all perjured with a witness, and, in a very bad sense of the word, irregular indeed. If the canons of our Church are to be implicitly obeyed, may I not say, ‘He, who is without the sin of acting illegally, let him cast the first stone at me, and welcome.’ Your lordship knows full well, that canons and other Church laws are good and obligatory, when conformable to the laws of Christ, and agreeable to the liberties of a free people; but, when invented and compiled by men of little hearts and bigotted principles, to hinder persons of more enlarged souls from doing good, or being more extensively useful, they become mere bruta fulmina; and, when made use of as cords to bind the hands of a zealous few, who honestly appear for their king, their country, and their God, they may, in my opinion, like the withes with which the Philistines bound Samson, very legally be broken. As I have not the canons at present before me, I cannot tell what pains and penalties are to be incurred for such offence; but, if any penalty is incurred, or any pain to be inflicted on me, for preaching against sin, the Pope, and the devil, and for recommending the strictest loyalty to the best of princes, his Majesty King George, in this metropolis, or in any other part of his Majesty’s dominions, I trust, through grace, I shall be enabled to say,――

‘All hail reproach, and welcome pain!’

“There now remains but one more particular in your lordship’s letter to be answered,――your lordship’s truly apostolical canon, taken out of 2 Cor. x. 16,――upon reading of which, I could not help thinking of a passage in good Mr. Philip Henry’s life. It was this. Being ejected out of the Church, and yet thinking it his duty to preach, Mr. Henry used, now and then, to give the people of Broad-Oaks, where he lived, a gospel sermon; and one day, as he was coming from his exercise, he met with the incumbent, and thus addressed him: ‘Sir, I have been taking the liberty of throwing a handful of seed into your field.’ ‘Have you?’ said the good man. ‘May God give it His blessing! There is work enough for us both.’ This, my lord, I humbly conceive, is the case, not only of your lordship, but of every minister’s parish in London, and of every bishop’s diocese in England; and, therefore, as good is done, and souls are benefited, I hope your lordship will not regard a little irregularity, since, at the worst, it is only the irregularity of doing well. But, supposing this should not be admitted as an excuse at other seasons, I hope it will have its weight at this critical juncture, wherein, if there were ten thousand sound preachers, and each preacher had a thousand tongues, they could not be too frequently employed in calling upon the inhabitants of Great Britain to be upon their guard against the cruel and malicious designs of France, of Rome, and of hell.

“After all, my lord, if your lordship will be pleased to apply to Mr. Barnard himself, who, I suppose, knows where the place is registered; or if, upon enquiry, I shall find that the lessor has no power to let it, as I abhor every dishonourable action, after my setting out for Bristol, which I expect to do in a few days, I shall decline preaching in the chapel any more. But, if the case should appear to be otherwise, I hope your lordship will not be angry, if I persist in this, I trust, not unpardonable irregularity; for, if I decline preaching in every place, merely because the incumbent may be unwilling I should come into his parish, I fear I should seldom or never preach at all. This, my lord, especially at the present juncture, when all our civil and religious liberties are at stake, would to me be worse than death itself.

“I humbly ask pardon for detaining your lordship so long; but, being willing to give your lordship all the satisfaction I could, I have chosen rather to sit up and deny myself proper repose, than to let your lordship’s candid letter lie by me one moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

“I return your lordship a thousand thanks for your favourable opinion of me, and for your good wishes; and, begging the continuance of your lordship’s blessing, and earnestly praying that, whenever your lordship shall be called hence, you may give up your account with joy, I beg leave to subscribe myself, my lord, your lordship’s most dutiful son and servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Such was Whitefield’s midnight letter to Bishop Pearce. Its length is gigantic, but, throughout, it is pointed, manly, and respectful; and, because of its historical facts, and its statement of the principles which regulated Whitefield’s life, it is of great importance. A summary of it could not have done it justice.

A week later, Whitefield wrote a third letter to the bishop, informing him he had ascertained that the chapel was duly licensed, and that Mr. Barnard’s committee were resolved to retain possession of it. He added, “As your lordship would undoubtedly choose that the Church liturgy should be read in it sometimes, rather than it should be entirely made use of in a Nonconformist way, I hope your lordship will not be offended, if I go on as usual after my return from Bristol. I am sorry to inform your lordship, that, notwithstanding the admonitions which, I hear, your lordship has given them, some unhappy persons have still endeavoured to disturb us, by making an odd kind of noise in a neighbouring house. I hear that some of them belong to your lordship’s vestry, and, therefore, wish you would so far interpose, as to order them once more to stop their proceedings.”

Whitefield went to Bristol; and, on Sunday, March 14, opened his “spring campaign, by preaching thrice in the fields, to many thousands, in Gloucestershire.”[383] Immediately after this he returned to London, and found it necessary to write again to Bishop Pearce.

“TABERNACLE HOUSE, March 20, 1756.

“MY LORD,――Upon my coming up to town, I found, to my great surprise, that the disturbances near Long Acre chapel had been continued. On Thursday evening last, when I preached there myself, they were rather increased. Some of the windows were stopped up, to prevent, in some degree, the congregation being disturbed by the unhallowed noise; but large stones were thrown in at another window, and one young person was sadly wounded.

“This constrains me to beg your lordship to desire the persons, belonging to your lordship’s vestry, to desist from such irregular proceedings. For my own irregularity in preaching, I am ready at any time to answer; and were I myself the only sufferer, I should be entirely unconcerned at any personal ill-treatment I might meet with in the way of duty. But to have the lives of his Majesty’s loyal subjects endangered, when they come peaceably to worship God, is an irregularity which, I am persuaded, your lordship will look upon as unjustifiable in the sight of God, and of every good man.

“Your lordship will allow that, as a subject of King George, and a minister of Jesus Christ, I have a right to do myself justice; and, therefore, I hope, if the disturbances be continued, that your lordship will not be offended, if I lay a plain narration of the whole affair, together with what has passed between your lordship and myself, before the world. I beg you not to look upon this as a threatening. I scorn any such mean procedure. But, as Providence seems to point out such a method, I hope your lordship will have no just reason to censure me if I do it.”

The bishop replied, and Whitefield wrote to him again, as follows:――

“LONDON, March 25, 1756.

“Your lordship needed not to inform me of the privilege of a peer, to deter me from publishing your lordship’s letters, without first asking leave. Nothing shall be done in that way, which is the least inconsistent with the strictest honour, justice, and simplicity. But, if a public account of the repeated disturbances at Long Acre chapel be rendered necessary, I hope your lordship will not esteem it unreasonable in me, to inform the world what previous steps were taken to prevent and stop them.

“Such a scene, at such a juncture, and under such a government, as has been transacted in your lordship’s parish, in the house or yard of Mr. Cope, who, I hear, is your lordship’s overseer, ever since last Twelfth-day, I believe is not to be met with in English history. It is more than noise. It is premeditated rioting. Drummers, soldiers, and many of the baser sort, have been hired by subscription. A copper furnace, bells, drums, clappers, marrow-bones, and cleavers, and such-like instruments of reformation, have been provided for them, and repeatedly have been used by them, from the moment I have begun preaching, to the end of my sermon. By these horrid noises, many women have been almost frightened to death; and mobbers have, thereby, been encouraged to come and riot at the chapel door during the time of divine service; and, after it has been over, have insulted and abused me and the congregation. Not content with this, the chapel windows, while I have been preaching, have repeatedly been broken by large stones of almost a pound weight, which, though levelled at me, missed me, but sadly wounded some of my hearers. If your lordship will only ride to Mr. Cope’s house, you will see the scaffold, and the costly preparations for such a noise upon it, as must make the ears of all who shall hear it to tingle.

“I am informed that Mr. C―――― and Mr. M―――― are parties greatly concerned. I know them not, and I pray God never to lay this ill and unmerited treatment to their charge. If no more noise is made, I assure your lordship no further resentment shall be made. But if they persist, I have the authority of an apostle, on a like occasion, to appeal unto Cæsar. I have only one favour to beg of your lordship. As the above-named gentlemen are your lordship’s parishioners, I request that you desire them, henceforward, to desist from such unchristian, such riotous, and dangerous proceedings. Whether, as a chaplain to a most worthy peeress, a presbyter of the Church of England, and a steady disinterested friend to our present happy constitution, I have not a right to ask such a favour, I leave to your lordship’s mature deliberation. Henceforward, I hope to trouble your lordship no more.”

Certainly, it was high time to bring matters to a crisis. The Rev. Zachary Pearce, D.D., though himself the son of a rich distiller in Holborn, and though the husband of a wife, who, as the daughter of another Holborn distiller, brought him a large fortune, was a pluralist. Twenty-three years ago, by the exertions of the Earl of Macclesfield, he had been presented with the fat living of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, even after it had been promised to another man. For seventeen years, he had been dean of Winchester; and, in 1748, had exchanged the deanery for the bishopric of Bangor. And now, in this memorable year of 1756, the Duke of Newcastle conferred upon him the see of Rochester and the deanery of Westminster. No doubt, it was in his capacity of vicar of St. Martin’s, that this wealthy pluralist prohibited Whitefield’s preaching in Long Acre, and, if he did not actually employ, yet connived at the noisy ruffians who disturbed Whitefield’s services. Whitefield’s language to the Bishop of Bangor was too respectful. Such a man deserved rebuke, quite as strong as the liquors, by which his own father and the father of his wife had made their fortunes.

Notwithstanding all the efforts of Whitefield to obtain peace, the disturbances at Long Acre were continued. Besides this, early in the month of April, Whitefield received three anonymous letters, threatening him with “a certain, sudden, and unavoidable stroke,” unless he desisted from preaching, and refrained from prosecuting the rioters of Long Acre. It is impossible to suspect Bishop Pearce of being implicated in the sending of these disgraceful threats; but there can be little doubt that the known animosity of himself and others gave encouragement to the masked assassins. For years past, the bishops and clergy of the Established Church, comparatively speaking, had ceased from their open and violent persecution of the poor itinerant preacher; but their rancorous feelings towards him, perhaps, were not at all abated. Even free-thinking Dr. Herring, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was now within twelve months of his decease, wrote, in the very midst of the Long Acre riots, to William Duncombe, Esq., as follows:――

“CROYDON HOUSE, January 25, 1756.

“Your judgment is right. Whitefield is Daniel Burgess[384] redivivus; and, to be sure, he finds his account in his joco-serious addresses. Wesley, with good parts and learning, is a most dark and saturnine creature. His pictures may frighten weak people, who, at the same time, are wicked; but, I fear, he will make few converts, except for a day. I have read his ‘Serious Thoughts’;[385] but, for my own part, I think the rising and setting of the sun is a more durable argument for religion than all the extraordinary convulsions of nature put together. Let a man be good on right principles, and then impavidum ferient ruinae. So far, Horace was as good a preacher as any of us. I have no constitution for these frights and fervours; and, if I can but keep up to the regular practice of a Christian life, upon Christian reasons, I shall be in no pain for futurity; nor do I think it an essential part of religion, to be pointed at for any foolish singularities. The subjects of the Methodist preaching, you mention, are excellent in the hands of wise men, not enthusiasts. As to their notion that men are by nature devils, I can call it by no other name than wicked and blasphemous, and the highest reproach that man can throw upon his wise and good Creator.

“I am, etc.,

“THOMAS CANTUAR.”[386]

Under the circumstances of the time, Whitefield was almost driven to seek redress. First of all, he consulted the Honourable Hume Campbell, brother of Lady Jane Nimmo, and solicitor to the Princess of Wales, Lord Clerk Registrar of Scotland, and one of Whitefield’s occasional hearers. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, dated “Canterbury, April 10, 1756,” Whitefield wrote:――

“The noise at Long Acre has been infernal. I have reason to think there was a secret design for my life. Some of my friends were sadly used; they applied for warrants; and that occasioned the sending of a threatening letter. I have written to Sir Hume Campbell for advice. Here all is peaceable. It is most delightful to see the soldiers flock to hear the word; officers likewise attend very orderly.”

On his return to London, Whitefield was introduced to the Earl of Holdernesse, one of his Majesty’s principal Secretaries of State. Hence the following to Lady Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, April 18, 1756.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Since my last, from Canterbury, I have received two more threatening letters. My greatest distress is, how to act so as to avoid rashness on the one hand, and timidity on the other. I have been introduced to the Earl of Holdernesse, who received me very courteously, and seemed to make no objection against issuing a reward for the discovery of the letter-writer. Whether I had best accept the plan, I know not. Sir Hume Campbell says the offence is not felony; and he advises me to put all concerned into the Court of King’s Bench. Lord Jesus, direct me, for Thy mercy’s sake! A man came up to me in the pulpit, at the Tabernacle; God knows what was his design. I see no way for me to act, than, either resolutely to persist in preaching and prosecuting, or entirely to desist from preaching, which would bring intolerable guilt upon my soul, and give the adversary cause to blaspheme. Blessed be God! I am quite clear as to the occasion of my suffering. It is for preaching Christ Jesus, and loyalty to King George. Alas! alas! what a condition would this land be in, were the Protestant interest not to prevail! If Popery is to get a footing here, I should be glad to die by the hands of an assassin. I should then be taken away from the evil to come.”

The result of all this battling with the vestry mobs of Bishop Pearce, and of the apprehension created by these anonymous popish menaces, was the publication of the following announcement in the London Gazette of May 1, 1756, and in the two next succeeding numbers of that official journal. The italics and spelling are as they appear in the original:――

“WHITEHALL, April 30, 1756.

“Wheras it has been humbly represented to the King that an anonimous letter, without date, directed, To Doctor Whitefield, at his Tabernacle, by the Foundery in Moorfields, was, on the 6th of this instant April, received by the Reverend Mr. George Whitefield, by the penny post; and that two other letters, viz., one of them dated the 7th of the present month of April, subscribed, Your Friendly Adversary, and directed, To Mr. Whitefield, at his Tabernacle, near Hogston, beyond the Upper Moorfields; and the other, anonimous, without date, and directed, To the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields, were also received by the said Reverend Mr. George Whitefield, by the penny post, on the 8th of this instant April; and that the said letters, written in very abusive terms, contained threats of injury and destruction to the said Reverend Mr. George Whitefield; His Majesty, for the better discovering, and bringing to justice the persons concerned in writing and sending the said three letters, as above-mentioned, or any one, or more, of them, is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon to any one of them, who shall discover his, or her, accomplice, or accomplices therein, so that he, she, or they, may be apprehended and convicted thereof.

“HOLDERNESSE.

“And as a further encouragement, James Cox, jeweller, in Racquet Court, Fleet Street, does hereby promise a reward of twenty pounds, to be paid by him, to the person or persons making such discovery as aforesaid, upon the conviction of one or more of the offenders.

“JAMES COX.”

So ended one of the toughest battles that Whitefield ever fought, but its issue was of great importance; for, before the appearance of the third advertisement in the London Gazette, Whitefield had taken successful steps for the erection of his own Tottenham Court Road chapel, where, for awhile, at least, he and his people were permitted to worship God in peace. But more of this anon.

Remembering that Wesley and his Society were permitted, throughout the whole of these disgraceful proceedings, to conduct their services, in their neighbouring West Street chapel, in perfect quietude, it is difficult to account for the disturbances Whitefield had to encounter in Long Acre. Were the “infernal” noises, in the first instance, promoted by the adjoining theatres? Probably they were. Wesley’s preaching in West Street was regarded, by dramatical actors, with less alarm than Whitefield’s in Long Acre. They, probably, felt that, with the great dramatical preacher so near to them, they might soon have to utter a wailing cry, analogous to that of the old Ephesians, under circumstances somewhat similar: “Not only is this our craft in danger to be set at nought; but also that the temple of the great goddess Diana should be despised, and her magnificence destroyed.” But, even admitting that the theatres began the noises, there cannot be a doubt that the vestries of the Church continued them. Bishop Pearce undeniably prohibited Whitefield’s preaching; and, considering his hatred of the Methodists, perhaps, it is not ungenerous to suppose that he secretly did more than this. As it respects the three threatening letters, it is probable that they emanated, neither from the theatre nor Church, but from popish politicians, who, during the “seven years’ war,” which was now in terrific progress, were full of angry excitement, and far more active than they often seemed to be. Whitefield had bitterly offended them by the publication of a “Short Address,” a copy of which he sent to Bishop Pearce on February 23;[387] and, as there can be little doubt that this small publication had to do with the riots and the threatening letters, a brief description of it may be useful.

The title was, “A Short Address to Persons of all Denominations, occasioned by the Alarm of an intended Invasion. By George Whitefield, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1756.” (8vo. pp. 20.) The pamphlet had a large sale, not only in Great Britain, but in America. Even during this selfsame year of 1756, as many as six editions were issued at Boston in New England. Its publication was opportune. A Royal Proclamation had recently been published in the London Gazette, setting forth that the king commanded all officers and ministers, civil and military, within their respective counties, to cause the coasts of England to be carefully watched, and, in case of any hostile attempt to land upon them, to immediately order all horses, oxen, and cattle, which might be fit for draught or burden, and not actually employed in his Majesty’s service, and also, as far as practicable, all other cattle and provisions, to be removed at least twenty miles from the place where such a hostile attempt was made, so as to prevent them falling into the hands of the enemy. Besides this, “on the 6th of February, a public fast was observed, by all ranks of the people. The churches and meeting-houses were thronged; and there was, in appearance, an entire cessation from business throughout London and the suburbs, and all over the kingdom.”[388] From such facts the reader may imagine the state of the country, when Whitefield wrote his “Short Address.” The following are extracts from it:――

“An insulting, enraged, and perfidious enemy is now advancing nearer and nearer to the British borders. Not content with invading and ravaging our rightful sovereign King George’s dominions in America, our popish adversaries have now the ambition to attempt, at least to threaten, an invasion of England itself; hoping, no doubt, thereby, not only to throw us into confusion at home, but also to divert us from more effectually defeating their malicious designs abroad. That such a design is now actually on foot, the late Royal Proclamation renders indisputable.”

Having referred to the recent public fast, Whitefield proceeds to say:――

“Artful insinuations have been industriously published, in order to lay all the blame of this war upon us. But bold assertions and solid proofs are two different things; for it is plain, beyond all contradiction, that the French, fond of rivalling us both at home and abroad, have unjustly invaded his Majesty’s dominions in America; and have also, by the most vile artifices and lies, been endeavouring to draw the six nations of Indians from our interest. In short, almost all their proceedings, since the late treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, have been little else than a tacit declaration of war. But He that sitteth in heaven, we may humbly hope, laughs them to scorn; and, as He once came down to confound the language of those aspiring projectors, who would fain have built a tower, the top of which should reach to heaven, so, we trust, He will frustrate the devices of our adversary’s most subtle politicians, and speak confusion to all their projects; who, by aiming at universal monarchy, are attempting to erect a more than second Babel.”

Whitefield goes on to shew that good Christians may be soldiers, and writes:――

“The British arms were never more formidable, than when our soldiers went forth in the strength of the Lord; and, with a Bible in one hand, and a sword in the other, cheerfully fought under His banner, who has condescended to style Himself ‘a man of war.’ What Bishop Saunderson says of study may be said of fighting: ‘Fighting without prayer is atheism, and prayer without fighting is presumption.’ I would be the more particular on this point, because, through a fatal scrupulosity against bearing arms, even in a defensive war, his Majesty has been in danger of losing the large province of Pennsylvania, the very centre and garden of all North America. Such very scrupulous persons, grasping at every degree of worldly power, and, by all the arts of worldly policy, labouring to monopolize and retain in their own hands all parts both of the legislative and executive branches of civil government, certainly act a most inconsistent part. Say what we will to the contrary, civil magistracy and defensive war must stand or fall together. Both are built upon the same basis; and there cannot be a single argument urged to establish the one, which does not corroborate and confirm the other.”

Whitefield then adverts to the recent earthquakes, at Lisbon and elsewhere, and proceeds to say:――

“Were even the like judgments to befal us, they would be but small, in comparison of our hearing that a French army, accompanied with a popish pretender, and thousands of Romish priests, was suffered to invade England, and to blind, deceive, and tyrannize over the souls and consciences of the people belonging to this happy isle. How can any serious and judicious person be so stupid to all principles of self-interest, and so dead to all maxims of common sense, as to prefer a French to an English government; or a popish pretender, born, and bred up in all the arbritary and destructive principles of the court and Church of Rome, to the present Protestant succession, settled in the illustrious line of Hanover?”

Whitefield next refers to popish persecutions of Protestants, and remarks:――

“After perusing this,” (a late declaration of ‘his Most Christian Majesty’ Louis XV.,) “read, also, I beseech you, the shocking accounts of the horrid butcheries and cruel murders committed on the bodies of many of our fellow-subjects in America, by the hands of savage Indians, instigated thereto by more than savage popish priests.[389] And if this be the beginning, what may we suppose the end will be, should a French power, or popish pretender, be permitted to subdue either us or them? Speak, Smithfield, speak, and, by thy dumb but persuasive oratory, declare to all who pass by and over thee, how many English Protestant martyrs thou hast seen burnt to death in the reign of the cruel popish queen, to whom the present pretender to the British throne claims a distant kindred! Speak, Ireland, speak, and tell how many thousands and tens of thousands of innocent, unprovoking Protestants were massacred, in cold blood, by the hands of cruel Papists, within thy borders, about a century ago! Speak, Paris, speak, and say, how many thousands of Protestants were once slaughtered, to serve as a bloody dessert, to grace the solemnity of a marriage feast! Speak, Languedoc, speak, and tell how many Protestant ministers have been lately executed; how many more of their hearers have been dragooned and sent to the galleys; and how many hundreds are now lying in prisons, fast bound in misery and iron, for no other crime than that unpardonable one in the Romish Church, hearing and preaching the pure gospel of the meek and lowly Jesus!

“And think you, my countrymen, that Rome, glutted with Protestant blood, will now rest satisfied, and say, ‘I have enough’? No, on the contrary, having through the good hand of God upon us, been kept so long fasting, we may reasonably suppose, that, the popish priests are only grown more voracious, and, like so many hungry and ravenous wolves pursuing harmless and innocent flocks of sheep, will with double eagerness, pursue after, seize upon, and devour their wished-for Protestant prey; and, attended with their bloody red coats, these Gallic instruments of reformation, who know they must either fight or die, will necessarily breathe out nothing but threatening and slaughter, and carry along with them desolation and destruction, go where they will.”

This was strong language, but, under the circumstances, not too strong.[390] No wonder, however, that infuriated Papists sent the writer threatening letters. Whitefield expresses his confidence in God’s interposition, and in England’s “glorious fleet,” and “well-disciplined army;” and then finishes with the following peroration:――

“If we can but make God our friend, we need not fear what France and Rome and hell can do against us. All the malicious efforts and designs of men and devils shall, so far from obstructing, be made to subserve the enlargement of His interests, who, in spite of all the strivings of the potsherds of the earth, will hold the balance of universal monarchy in His own hands, and, at last, bring about the full establishment of that blessed kingdom, whose law is truth, whose King is love, and whose duration is eternity. Fiat! fiat! Amen and amen!”

These are long quotations, but they help to shew the excited state of public feeling in 1756; and, perhaps, they may help the reader to understand the secrets of the disgraceful clangours, riots, and threatening letters already mentioned.

In his pamphlet, Whitefield refers to the persecution of Protestants in France. Much might be said respecting this; but suffice it to remark, that, on the general fast day, February 6th, Whitefield made a collection in his Tabernacle, eighty pounds of which he devoted to a fund which was being raised for the assistance of these poor persecuted people.[391] Remembering that, in 1756, money was probably of four times greater worth than it is at present, this collection of the poor Methodists was a noble one; but even this fell far short of the sum, which Whitefield, three months afterwards, obtained, within a week, towards the erection of his Tottenham Court Road chapel. Hence the following, addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, May 2, 1756.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Various have been my exercises since I wrote you last; but, I find, all things happen for the furtherance of the gospel. I suppose your ladyship has seen his Majesty’s promise of pardon to any who will discover the letter-writer; and this brings you the further news of my having taking a piece of ground, very commodious to build on, not far from the Foundling Hospital. On Sunday, I opened the subscription, and, through God’s blessing, it has already amounted to near £600. If He is pleased to continue to smile upon my poor endeavours, and to open the hearts of more of His dear children to contribute, I hope, in a few months, to have what has long been wanted,――a place for the gospel at the other end of the town. This evening, God willing, I venture once more to preach at Long Acre. The enemy boasts that I am frightened away; but the triumph of the wicked is short. On Tuesday next, I hope to set out for Wales.”

The site of Whitefield’s new chapel was surrounded by fields and gardens. On the north side of it, there were but two houses. The next after them, half a mile further, was the “Adam and Eve” public-house; and thence, to Hampstead, there were only the inns of “Mother Red Cap” and “Black Cap.”[392] The chapel, when first erected, was seventy feet square within the walls. Two years after it was opened, twelve almshouses and a minister’s house[393] were added. About a year after that, the chapel was found to be too small, and it was enlarged to its present dimensions of a hundred and twenty-seven feet long, and seventy feet broad, with a dome a hundred and fourteen feet in height. Beneath it were vaults for the burial of the dead; and in which Whitefield intended that himself and his friends, John and Charles Wesley, should be interred. “I have prepared a vault in this chapel,” Whitefield used to say to his somewhat bigotted congregation, “where I intend to be buried, and Messrs. John and Charles Wesley shall also be buried there. We will all lie together. You will not let them enter your chapel while they are alive. They can do you no harm when they are dead.”[394] The lease of the ground was granted, to Whitefield, by General George Fitzroy, and, on its expiration in 1828, the freehold was purchased for £14,000. The foundation-stone of the chapel was laid in the beginning of June, 1756, when Whitefield preached from the words, “They sang together by course in praising and giving thanks unto the Lord; because He is good, for His mercy endureth for ever toward Israel. And all the people shouted with a great shout, when they praised the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid.” (Ezra iii. 11.)[395] Among others present on the occasion, were the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, one of the Tutors of the Dissenting Academy at Mile End; Dr. Andrew ♦Gifford, Assistant Librarian of the British Museum; and the celebrated Rev. Benjamin Grosvenor, D.D., for many years the pastor of the Presbyterian congregation in Crosby Square, and who, after preaching in London for half a century, had recently retired into private life. The chapel was opened for divine worship on November 7, 1756, when Whitefield selected, as his text, the words, “Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. iii. 11).[396]

Tottenham Court Road chapel has a history well worthy of being written. From this venerable sanctuary sprang separate congregations in Shepherd’s Market, Kentish Town, Paddington, Tonbridge chapel, Robert Street, Crown Street, and Craven chapel.[397] Much also might be said of the distinguished preachers who, in olden days, occupied its pulpit: Dr. Peckwell, De Courcy, Berridge, Walter Shirley, Piercy, chaplain to General Washington, Rowland Hill, Torial Joss, West, Kinsman, Beck, Medley, Edward Parsons, Matthew Wilks, Joel Knight, John Hyatt, and many others; but want of space prevents the insertion of further details. Whitefield’s Tabernacle in Moorfields has been demolished, and a Gothic church erected on its site.[398] Whitefield’s Tottenham Court Road chapel is now his only erection in the great metropolis; and long may it stand as a grand old monument, in memory of the man who founded it! Thousands have been converted within its walls, and never was it more greatly needed than at the present day.

No sooner had Whitefield raised £600 towards the erection of his intended chapel, than away he went to the west of England, where he spent about a month. He preached at Bristol, Bath, Westbury, Gloucester, Bradford, Frome, Warminster, Portsmouth, and other places. One letter, written during this preaching tour, must be inserted.

The Rev. Thomas Haweis, D.D., was now a student at Christ Church College, Oxford. He had been educated at the Grammar School, Truro, and had been converted under the preaching of the Rev. Samuel Walker, whose ministry, in that town, during the last few years, had been the means of turning a large number of people “from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God.” Young Haweis had formed a Society at Oxford,[399] analogous to the “Holy Club” of the Wesleys and their friends, more than a quarter of a century previous to this. He and a few of his fellow-collegians, all animated by the same views and feelings, met together, in his room, at stated times, for the purpose of reading the Greek Testament, and of conversing on religious subjects. Mr. Walker, the Methodist clergyman of Truro, in a letter, dated “April, 1757,” wrote, “Tom Haweis is at Christ Church, and doing service among a few of the young gentlemen there. He tells me, he is remarked as a dangerous fellow; and adds, that Romaine has been again in the university pulpit, where he preached imputed righteousness, but, it is said, will be allowed to preach no more there.”[400] In another letter, written a few months afterwards, Walker remarked, “Tom Haweis has good speed at Oxford. There are pretty many already coming to him in private, and he hopes very well of a few of them.”[401] Haweis, in fact, had founded a second Society of “Oxford Methodists,” a Society which grew into such importance, and became so obnoxious to the heads of houses, as to lead, in 1768, to the expulsion of six students, belonging to Edmund Hall, “for holding Methodistical tenets, and taking upon them to pray, read, and expound the Scriptures in private houses.”[402]

As yet, Whitefield had never met with Haweis, but he had heard of him, and, while at Bristol, he addressed to him the following letter:――

“BRISTOL, May 20, 1756.

“MY VERY DEAR SIR,――For so I must address you, having had you in a peculiar manner upon my heart, ever since I read a letter that came from you some months ago. It bespoke the language of a heart devoted to Jesus. Glory be to God! that there are some young champions coming forth. Methinks, I could now sing my nunc dimittis with triumphant joy. Though I decrease, may you increase! O that you may be kept from conferring with flesh and blood! O that you may be owned and blessed of God! I believe you will, and never more so than when you are reviled and despised by man. It is a fatal mistake to think we must keep our characters in order to do good. This is called prudence; in most, I fear, it is trimming. Honesty I find always to be the best policy. Them who honour Jesus, He will honour. Even in this world, if we confess Him, His truth, and His people, we shall receive a hundredfold. But whither am I going? Excuse the overflowings of a heart that loves you dearly for the glorious Redeemer’s sake. I am here preaching His cross. Next week, I have thoughts of being at Bath and Westbury. I lead a pilgrim life. Ere long, I hope my heavenly Father will take me home. I am ambitious; I want to sit upon a throne. Jesus has purchased a throne and heaven for me. That you may have an exalted place at His right hand, is the prayer of, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

On his return to London, Whitefield took advice respecting the trust deed to be drawn up for his new chapel, and wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon as follows:――

“LONDON, June 4, 1756.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――At Bristol, the Redeemer caused us to triumph, and likewise in Gloucestershire, and at Bradford, Frome, Warminster, and Portsmouth, where I have been the last three weeks. I am now come to London, for about ten days, to keep Pentecost. I trust it will be a Pentecost to many souls at Long Acre.

“Blessed be God! a new building is now in progress at Tottenham Court Road. We have consulted the Commons about putting it under your ladyship’s protection. This is the answer: ‘No nobleman can license a chapel; a chapel cannot be built and used as such, without the consent of the parson of the parish; and, when it is done with his consent, no minister can preach therein without license of the Bishop of the diocese.’ There seems then to be but one way,――to license it as our other houses are: and thanks be to Jesus for that liberty, which we have.”

From this it is evident that Whitefield wished his new erection to be a chapel in connection with the Established Church; and, that, because of the difficulties mentioned, he was driven to avail himself of the Act of Toleration, and license it as a Dissenting meeting-house.

Whitefield had another trouble of a different kind. William Law, one of the oracles of the Oxford Methodists, had become a Behmenite; and Wesley had recently published a large pamphlet, with the title, “A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Law, occasioned by some of his late writings.” (8vo. 102 pp.) This production has never been entirely reprinted, an extract only being given in Wesley’s collected works. Its language in some places was unusually, perhaps undeservedly, severe. At all events, Law was deeply offended; and, what was more amusing, Whitefield was implicated, by its being rumoured that he was a party to the publication of Wesley’s letter. The following, to Lady Huntingdon, refers to this:――

“LONDON, June 10, 1756.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――I have just come from bed, where I have been sweating for a cold and colic. From your ladyship’s kind and condescending letter, I see your ladyship is touched in a very tender point. Generous minds are always thus affected, when a friend is abused. I find more and more, that our own mother’s children will be permitted to be angry with us. The contradiction of saints is more trying than that of sinners. I do not deny, that I might say, ‘Some of Mr. Law’s principles, in my opinion, are wrong;’ but that I ever put Mr. Wesley upon writing, or had any active hand in his pamphlet, is utterly false. I think it is a most ungentlemanlike, injudicious, unchristian piece. However, Mr. Law knows too much of the Divine life, not to see some call even in this cross; and I hope your ladyship will not suffer it to burden your mind any longer.

“My present work in London seems to be over, and, on Monday or Tuesday next, I hope to set out for Bristol, and then come, through Leicestershire, on my way to Scotland. This, I hope, will be a three months’ circuit. The prospect in London is very promising. Every day we hear of fresh conquests.”

Whitefield did not set out to Bristol until June 22; and, instead of proceeding thence to Scotland, he returned to London on July 9. The following letters belong to this period.

Whitefield had a large family in America; but, because of the war, he could not visit it. He wrote to his housekeeper there as follows:――

“LONDON, June 21, 1756.

“Nothing in your last letter concerns me, except your having the least suspicion that I was not pleased with your conduct, or was not satisfied with your being at Bethesda. I know of no person in the world that I would prefer to you. I think myself happy in having such a mother for the poor children, and am persuaded God will bless you more and more. I care not how much the family is lessened. As it is a time of war, this may be done with great propriety; and the plantation will have time to grow. Never fear; Jesus will stand by a disinterested cause. I have aimed at nothing, in founding Bethesda, but His glory and the good of my country. Let Lots choose the plain; God will be Abraham’s shield and exceeding great reward. All is well that ends well. To-morrow, I set out upon a long range.”

The next letter is curious and full of interest. Benjamin Franklin, who, in later years, through unhappy embroilments, became an enemy of England, and took an active part in bringing about the American revolution, was, at present, one of the most loyal subjects of King George the Second. Only a year before, when the expedition of General Braddock, to dispossess the French of some of their encroachments, was in preparation, a difficulty arose for want of waggons, and Franklin, at the risk of ruining his own fortunes, supplied not fewer than a hundred and fifty. After this, he was instrumental in passing a militia bill, and was appointed colonel of the Philadelphia regiment of twelve hundred men, which command he held until the troops were disbanded by order of the English government. In the midst of these exciting occurrences, Franklin wrote to Whitefield, as follows:――

“NEW YORK, July 2, 1756.

“DEAR SIR,――I received your favour of the 24th of February with great pleasure, as it informed me of your welfare, and expressed your continued regard for me. I thank you for the pamphlet you enclosed to me.[403] As we had just observed a provincial fast on the same occasion, I thought it very seasonable to be published in Pennsylvania; and accordingly reprinted it immediately.

“You mention your frequent wish that you were a chaplain to the American army. I sometimes wish that you and I were jointly employed by the Crown to settle a colony on the Ohio. I imagine that we could do it effectually, and without putting the nation to much expense; but, I fear, we shall never be called upon for such a service. What a glorious thing it would be to settle in that fine country a large, strong body of religious and industrious people! What a security to the other colonies, and advantage to Britain, by increasing her people, territory, strength, and commerce! Might it not greatly facilitate the introduction of pure religion among the heathen, if we could, by such a colony, shew them a better sample of Christians than they commonly see in our Indian traders?――the most vicious and abandoned wretches of our nation! Life, like a dramatic piece, should not only be conducted with regularity, but, methinks, it should finish handsomely. Being now in the last act, I begin to cast about for something fit to end with. Or, if mine be more properly compared to an epigram, as some of its lines are but barely tolerable, I am very desirous of concluding with a bright point. In such an enterprise, I could spend the remainder of life with pleasure: and I firmly believe God would bless us with success, if we undertook it with a sincere regard to His honour, the service of our gracious king, and (which is the same thing) the public good.

“I thank you cordially for your generous benefactions to the German schools. They go on pretty well; and will do better, when Mr. Smith, who has at present the principal charge of them, shall learn to mind party-writing and party-politics less, and his proper business more; which, I hope, time will bring about.

“I thank you for your good wishes and prayers; and am, with the greatest esteem and affection, dear sir, your most obedient humble servant,

“BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

“My best respects to Mrs. Whitefield.”[404]

As is well known, this remarkable man wound up the drama of his eventful life, not by founding a new English colony on the Ohio, but by assisting to wrest the colonies which England already had, from English government, and by becoming the plenipotentiary of the rebellious provinces to the court of France!

After his return from Bristol, on July 9, Whitefield, with the exception of a run to Kent, employed nearly the next three weeks in London. Hence the following letters, the first to the Countess of Huntingdon, the second to his housekeeper at Bethesda:――

“LONDON, July 17, 1756.

“EVER-HONOURED MADAM,――Your kind letter found me just returned from Bristol, and just setting out for Maidstone and Chatham, where I have been to preach the gospel, and to visit a poor murderer.[405] I hope my labours were not altogether vain in the Lord. I am now preparing for my northern expedition. My motions must be very quick, because I would hasten to Scotland as fast as possible, to have more time at my return. Eternity! Eternity! O how I do long for thee! But, alas, how often must we be like pelicans in the wilderness, before we arrive there! Solitariness prepares for the social life, and the social life for solitariness again. Jesus alone is the centre of peace and comfort in either situation. Springs fail; the Fountain never can, nor will.”

“ISLINGTON, July 27, 1756.

“Pray lessen the family as much as possible. I wish I had none in the house but proper orphans. The plantation would then suffice for its support, and debts be paid; but we must buy our experience. Troubles seem to beset us here; but we are all secure in God. His gospel flourishes in London. I am just returned from preaching it at Sheerness, Chatham, and in the camp. This afternoon or to-morrow I set off for Scotland.”

Whitefield arrived at Leeds on Sunday evening, August 1. The account of his labours during the next fortnight is contained in the following letter:――

“SUNDERLAND, August 14, 1756.

“It is now a fortnight since I came to Leeds. On the Sunday evening, a few hours after my arrival, many thousands were gathered in the fields, to whom Jesus enabled me to speak with some degree of power. The following week, I preached, in and about Leeds, thrice almost every day, to thronged and affected auditories. On Sunday last, at seven in the morning, the congregation consisted of about ten thousand; at noon and in the evening, at Birstal, of near double the number. Though hoarse, the Redeemer helped me to speak, so that all heard. It was a high day. In the evening, several hundred of us rode about eight miles, singing and praising God. The next morning, I took a sorrowful leave of Leeds, preached at Tadcaster[406] at noon, and at York in the evening. God was with us. On Tuesday, I preached twice at York. Delightful seasons. On Wednesday, at Warstall, about fifty miles off; on Thursday, twice at Yarm; and last night and this morning here. After spending my Sabbath here, and visiting Shields,[407] Newcastle, and some adjacent places, I purpose to go on to Scotland.”

The Sunday spent at Bradford and Birstal was a day never to be forgotten; and the singing cavalcade, at the end of it, has hardly ever been equalled. Among the thousands then assembled, was a boy, sixteen years of age, upon whom Whitefield’s sermons had a powerful and permanent effect. They led to his conversion; and the youth, then an apprentice, became the well-known Rev. John Fawcett, D.D., for fifty-four years, one of the most faithful preachers among the West Yorkshire mountains. After hearing Whitefield at Bradford, early in the morning, young Fawcett trudged ten or a dozen miles to Birstal, where Whitefield stood on a platform, at the foot of a hill near the town, and, on the slopes of the hill, had twenty thousand people grouped before him, “thousands of whom, during the delivery of his two sermons, vented their emotions by tears and groans. Fools who came to mock, began to pray.”[408]

One of the places “about Leeds,” at which Whitefield preached, was Haworth, where a scaffold was erected in the churchyard, and he took for his text, “Turn you to the stronghold, ye prisoners of hope” (Zech. ix. 12). Here, again, there was a young Yorkshireman who never forgot that memorable season. Samuel Whitaker wrote: “I got among the crowd nearly under the scaffold, and it was the most affecting time I ever experienced. Mr. Whitefield spoke as if he had been privy to all my thoughts, words, and actions, from the tenth year of my age. The day following, I heard him at Leeds; and the day after that, at Bradford.” Twelve months subsequent to this, Samuel Whitaker became a member of Wesley’s Society; for many years was a class-leader and local-preacher at Keighley; and, exactly sixty years after first hearing Whitefield at Haworth, tranquilly expired, in the eighty-second year of his age.[409]

Whitefield has left no account of his labours in Scotland; but the following particulars, taken from the Scots’ Magazine for 1756, will partly fill up the gap.

He arrived at Edinburgh, on Friday, August 20, where he remained for the next three weeks, and “preached every day, morning and evening, in the Orphan Hospital Park, to very numerous audiences” (p. 414).

On Friday, September 10, he went to Glasgow, where he preached the same evening, twice on Saturday, and four times on Sunday, September 12, to large congregations.

Six days afterwards, he returned to Edinburgh; and, as the new governor of Georgia desired to converse with him, before embarking for the colony, Whitefield started for England, on Wednesday, September 22.[410]

The Scots’ Magazine proceeds to say: “Before Mr. Whitefield set out for Glasgow, the managers of the Orphan Hospital made him a present of fifty guineas to defray his travelling charges; but he returned ten guineas, saying that forty guineas were sufficient to defray the charges, and likewise to pay upwards of £14, which he had laid out here for coarse linen to be sent to his Orphan House in Georgia. For accommodating the audience, when he preached, the managers had erected seats in the park; and, though only a halfpenny each was asked from the hearers for their seats, the money thence arising, and the collections at the park gates, amounted to upwards of £188 sterling; so that the hospital has about £120 clear gain, over and above the expense of the seats, and the present made to Mr. Whitefield.”

The magazine relates further, that “scarcity at home” had induced a greater number of Highlanders than usual to come to Edinburgh for “harvest work.” The harvest, however, was not ready. They had nothing to live upon. “Contributions were set on foot, to give them two meals a day at the poorhouse; and, on the evening of September 21, after a sermon suitable to the occasion by Mr. Whitefield, a collection was made for them, in the Orphan Hospital Park, which amounted to £60 11s. 4d. sterling, of which half a guinea was given by Mr. Whitefield himself” (p. 465).

To these items of intelligence may be added the following from the Edinburgh Courant: “During his stay, Mr. Whitefield preached, morning and evening, in the Orphan Hospital Park, not excepting the evening of the day on which he arrived, or the morning of that on which he departed. As he was frequently very explicit in opening the miseries of popish tyranny and arbitrary power, and very warm in exhorting his hearers to loyalty and courage at home, and in stirring them up to pray for the success of his Majesty’s forces, we have reason to believe that his visit, at this juncture, has been particularly useful.”

In 1756, a considerable number of Wesley’s preachers and Societies were strongly inclined to declare themselves Dissenters. Charles Wesley was excessively annoyed; and, as soon as his brother’s annual conference was ended, he set out to entreat the Methodists “to continue steadfast in the communion of the Church of England.” Throughout life, Whitefield was a peace-maker, and, on his return from Scotland, he rendered service for which Charles Wesley was profoundly thankful. Under the date of Friday, October 8, Charles wrote:――

“Returning to Leeds, I met my brother Whitefield, and was much refreshed by the account of his abundant labours. I waited on him in our Room, and gladly sat under his word.”

Again: “Sunday, October 10. At Birstal, my congregation was less by a thousand or two, through George Whitefield preaching to-day at Haworth.”

“Monday, October 11. Hearing Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Grimshaw were returning to our watch-night, I waited for them at their lodgings, with zealous, humble, loving Mr. Crook. It rained so hard, that Mr. Whitefield was agreeably surprised, at eight, to find our House as full as it could cram. They forced me to preach first; which I did from Zech. xiii.: ‘The third part I will bring through the fire.’ My brother George seconded me in the words of our Lord: ‘I say unto all, Watch.’ The prayers and hymns were all attended with a solemn power. Few, if any, went unawakened away.”

“Manchester, Monday, October 25. Here I rejoiced to hear of the great good Mr. Whitefield has done in our Societies. He preached as universally as my brother. He warned them everywhere against apostacy; and strongly insisted on the necessity of holiness after justification, illustrating it with this comparison: ‘What good will the king’s pardon do a poor malefactor dying of a fever? So, notwithstanding you have received forgiveness, unless the disease of your nature be healed by holiness, ye can never be saved.’ He beat down the separating spirit, highly commended the prayers and services of our Church, charged our people to meet their bands and classes constantly, and never to leave the Methodists, or God would leave them. In a word, he did his utmost to strengthen our hands, and deserves the thanks of all the churches, for his abundant labour of love.”[411]

The author of “The Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon” states, that, in his itinerancy through Lancashire, Whitefield was accompanied by the Revs. Messrs. Grimshaw, Ingham, and Milner, and that, among other places, they visited Manchester, Stockport, and Chinley.[412] From an old manuscript ‘History of Methodism in Leigh,’ it appears, that Whitefield also visited Shackerley, where, at that time, a large number of Unitarians were located, the disciples of Dr. Taylor, the divinity tutor of the Unitarian Academy at Warrington. The writer relates, that, Whitefield preached on Shackerley Common, and that a man, a mile distant, leaning upon a gate, distinctly heard many of his sentences, was convinced of sin, and soon converted.

Whitefield’s own account of his labours in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, is extremely meagre. On his return to London, from what he calls his “thousand miles’ northern circuit,”[413] he wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon, as follows:――

“LONDON, October 27, 1756.

“I wrote you a few lines, not long ago, from Leeds. Since then, I have been in honest Mr. Grimshaw’s and Mr. Ingham’s rounds, preaching upon the mountains to many thousands. One, who was awakened three years ago, is gone to heaven, and desired to be buried in the spot where she was converted. The sacrament at Mr. Grimshaw’s was awful; and the watch-night at Leeds exceeding solemn. I would have continued my circuit, but I found that preaching so frequently in those cold districts was bringing on my last year’s disorder. Being, therefore, grown very prudent, I am come to open our new chapel in Tottenham Court Road. Lord, what am I, that Thou shouldest suffer me to put a pin in Thy tabernacle! Never did I know the fields more ready unto harvest, than I have seen them in the north.”

Builders, in former days, were more expeditious than at present. Whitefield’s chapel was neither a small nor a flimsy structure, and yet, only half a year after its commencement, it was ready for being opened!

Whitefield was now in his “winter quarters,” where he remained for the next six months;――an unusually long period for him to spend in London. The following extracts from his letters will, it is hoped, interest the reader:――

“London, November 17, 1756. At Tottenham Court chapel, we have had some glorious earnests of future blessings. My constant work now is preaching about fifteen times a week. This, with a weak appetite, want of rest, and much care lying upon my mind, enfeebles me. But the joy of the Lord is my strength; and my greatest grief is, that I can do no more for Him, who has done and suffered so much for me.”

The Rev. Henry Venn was now one of the most active clergymen of the Church of England. Besides being curate of Clapham, he held three lectureships in the city. His regular duties consisted of a full service at Clapham on the Sunday morning; a sermon, in the afternoon, at St. Alban’s, Wood Street; and another, in the evening, at St. Swithin’s, London-stone. On Tuesday morning, a sermon at St. Swithin’s; on Wednesday morning, at seven o’clock, at St. Antholin’s; and, on Thursday evening, at Clapham.[414] Whitefield had become acquainted with him, and wrote to Hervey, at Weston-Favel, as follows:――

“London, December 9, 1756. I hope that my dear friend prospers both in soul and body. Conviction and conversion work goes on here. Lord, keep us from tares! All is well at Clapham. I have expounded there twice. God has met with us in our new building.”

To the Rev. Aaron Burr, the President of New Jersey College, for whom he had done his best to obtain a D.D. degree from the Edinburgh University, Whitefield wrote:――

“London, December 9, 1756. Night and day, our hands are lifted up for dear America; but, I fear, we are to be brought into far greater extremity, both at home and abroad, ere deliverance comes. I am sorry you have not your degree. It is ready, if testimonials were sent from those who know you. This not being done, it looks as though the character given you on this side the water was not justly founded. I wish you would write oftener. How glad would I be to see America, but my way is hedged up. The awakening both in town and country continues. More ministers are coming out to preach the gospel. I am strengthened to preach fourteen times a week, and I trust it is not in vain.”

“London, December 15, 1756. Last Sunday, in the new chapel, there was a wonderful stirring among the dry bones. Some great people came, and begged they might have a constant seat: an earnest this, I believe, of more good things to come.”

“London, December 30, 1756. God is doing wonders in the new chapel. Hundreds went away last Sunday morning, who could not come in. On Christmas Day, and last Tuesday night (the first time of burning candles), the power of the Lord was present, both to wound and to heal. A neighbouring doctor has baptized the place, calling it ‘Whitefield’s Soul-Trap.’ I pray that it may be a soul-trap indeed, to many wandering sinners. Abundance of people round about, I hear, are much struck. O for humility! O for gratitude! O for faith! Wherefore should I doubt? Surely Jesus will carry me through, and help me to pay the workmen.”

In such a spirit, Whitefield ended another year of his eventful life. He was now attracting to his meeting-house some of the “great people” of the western parts of the metropolis; and, yet, his preaching was as faithful as ever. Let the following serve as a specimen:――

“Woe unto you, who are at ease in Zion, and, instead of staying to be tempted by the devil, by idleness, self-indulgence, and making continual provision for the flesh even tempt the devil to tempt you! Woe unto you, who, not content with sinning yourselves, turn factors for hell, and make a trade of tempting others to sin! Woe unto you, who either deny Divine revelation, or never use it, but to serve a bad turn! Woe unto you, who sell your consciences, and pawn your souls, for a little worldly wealth or honour! Woe unto you, who climb up to high places, in Church or State, by corruption, bribery, extortion, cringing, flattery, or bowing down to, and soothing the vices of those by whom you expect to rise! Woe unto you! for, whether you will own the relation or not, you are of your father the devil; for the works of your father you do. I tremble for you. How can you escape the damnation of hell?”[415]

Such preaching was needed in the days of Whitefield, and it is equally needed now. For lack of it, thousands, even in churches and chapels, are dreaming elysian dreams, while in the utmost danger of perishing.

In more respects than one, the year 1756 was a year of turmoil; but the Methodists were not without their friends. One pamphlet, published during the year, undesignedly in Whitefield’s favour, had the following inordinately long title: “The Great Secret Disclosed; or an Infallible Salve for Opening the Eyes of all such as the God of this World has Blinded; by once applying which, the Person will be able to see the true cause why Religion decays amongst us, and why Methodism started up, and daily increases; and, with it, all that train of Vice and Immorality so common to be met with in every corner of the Nation; with an effectual method for bringing about a Reformation by destroying Methodism.” (8vo. 52 pp.)

The title shews that the pamphlet was not intended to promote the interests of Methodism. Like Balaam, the writer purposed to curse his enemies, and, yet, he blessed them. Two extracts must suffice.

“It is generally reported that Mr. Whitefield has a hundred thousand followers, most of whom, before his preaching, were the vilest of mankind, but are now sober and religious persons, good members of society, and good subjects of the king. It is also said that Mr. Wesley’s preaching has had as good an effect on the like numbers; most of whom have been brought to be members of the Church of England; namely, to baptize their children, and to receive the sacrament there: for, as he and his brother preach only betimes in a morning and in the evening, and order their followers to go, the other parts of the day, to their respective places of worship; and, as most of them went to no place of worship before, and as such always looked upon themselves as Church people, they go, forenoon and afternoon, to its services. Thus, instead of weakening the Church, by taking members from it, the Methodists have strengthened it, by adding thousands of members to it; for the Methodists, properly speaking, are no Church, having no ordinances administered among them.[416]

“Mr. Whitefield seems to have been the first whom the clergy of a whole nation agreed to prevent preaching, without ever proving that he had broken either the ecclesiastical, moral, or national law. His chief crime was that he appeared to be in earnest both in reading prayers and preaching.”

The author’s “effectual method” to destroy Methodism was: 1. That the clergy should “treat the Methodists as Church members, and not molest them in performing the duties of religion;” and, 2. They should “out-pray and preach them.”

Another pamphlet, of the same Balaam-like character, was published in 1756, with the title, “Methodism Displayed, and Enthusiasm Detected; intended as an Antidote against, and a Preservative from, the delusive Principles and unscriptural Doctrines of a Modern Sett of seducing Preachers; and as a Defence of our Regular and Orthodox Clergy, from their unjust Reflections.” (8vo. 36 pp.)

This was an enigmatical production. After giving to the “Modern Sett of seducing Preachers” a number of hard names, the author writes as follows:――

“If for a steady adherence and firm attachment to the doctrines of the Church of England I am accounted a Methodist, I am content. May I live and die a Church of England Methodist! A Methodist! Why, really it is a simple and inoffensive name, and I do not see much reason to be ashamed of it. The world does not usually fix this apellation upon persons of an openly wicked and scandalously sinful life. A gaming, pleasure-taking, playhouse-frequenting person, who lives in debauchery and excess of drinking, is sure to escape the name of Methodist. Nor has a minister that name given him, who, notwithstanding his solemn declarations, subscriptions, and oaths to assent to and to abide by the Articles of our Church, preaches contrary to them,――denies the fall of man,――original sin,――contends for justification by works, instead of by faith,――is an enemy to the doctrine of imputed righteousness,――from whose sermons you seldom hear the name of Jesus, or the agency and influence of the Holy Spirit, unless utterly to deny, inveigh against, and explode all spiritual inspiration and inward feelings: these and such-like preachers escape from the imputation of Methodism. So, again, that decent, regular person, who, freed from the irksome care of souls, comfortably lolls in his chariot, thinks it is time for him to have done with praying and preaching, and, therefore, has left off trade, and is content with a bare £1000 per annum Church preferment; he, who loves the Church, rails at your popular, mob-driving preachers, and is sure they would not take half the pains they do, if views of money-getting were not at the bottom,――this sort of gentleman stands very clear of being deemed a Methodist.”

Another extract must be given. The picture it draws was not a caricature.

“Take knowledge of that thing. He is parson of St――――’s church. Lest the people should be seduced and deceived by hearing the doctrines of the Church of England preached, he denies these true ministers[417] the pulpit, and says they are Enthusiasts; and the people, as ignorant as himself, join the cry. An enthusiast! What is that? Oh, ’tis the cant word of the day for the many-headed monster, the bugbear of the times. ‘Ah,’ says a constant church-goer, ‘I heard one of those preachers at our church. He preached such a sermon! It was almost an hour long, and he said downright, that all unconverted people were in a state of damnation, and would go to hell, if they did not believe on the Lord Jesus! Truly, he set the parish in an uproar, for we are not used to such sort of preaching. Thank God for a good parson, say I; for the Sunday after our parson (God bless him!) preached a sermon against such doctrine; and, though he was no longer than a quarter of an hour, he made us all easy again. He told us we were in no danger of going to hell, and that there was no fear of our being damned, for we were all good Christians, if we paid every one their own, and did as we would be done by.’”

Whitefield began the year 1757 with mingled feelings. He rejoiced because of the prosperity of the work of God; he was distressed by political and Church contentions; and he was full of care respecting his distant Orphan House. Hence the following selections from his letters:――

“LONDON, January 12, 1757.

“A wide door seems to be opening at Tottenham Court chapel. The word flies like lightning in it. O that it may prove a Bethel――a house of God――a gate of heaven! I believe it will. As the awakening continues, I have some hopes that we are not to be given up. Alas! alas! we are testing and contesting, while the nation is bleeding to death. We are condemning this and that; but sin, the great mischief-maker, lies unmolested, or rather encouraged by every party.”

To his housekeeper at Bethesda, Whitefield wrote:――

“LONDON, February 5, 1757.

“Tottenham Court chapel is made a Bethel, and the awakening increases every day. O that it were so in Georgia! Surely the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls will bless you, for taking care of the lambs in that distant wilderness. Mr. P.’s leaving Bethesda sadly distresses me. I desire that all, who are capable, may be put out, and the family reduced as low as possible, till the war is over, and the institution out of debt. Lord, remember me and all my various concerns! God bless and direct you in every step! He will, He will. What is to become of us here, God only knows. A year perhaps may determine. The best sign is, that the awakening continues.”

Four years ago, Whitefield had published his pamphlet against Zinzendorf and the Moravians. Things since then had altered for the better. Hence the following:――

“LONDON, February 17, 1757.

“O to be an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile! Simplicity and godly sincerity are all in all. A want of this, I fear, has led the Count into all his mistakes. With great regret, I speak or write of any people’s weaknesses; but I thought Divine Providence called me to publish what you mention. The Redeemer gave it His blessing. I do not find that their fopperies are continued, and I hear also that they have discharged many debts.”

At this period, one of the most popular of the metropolitan actors was a young man of twenty-seven――Edward Shuter, born in a cellar adjoining Covent Garden――“the offspring of a chairman on the one side, and of an oyster-woman on the other.” He had been a marker at a billiard table, and a tapster at a public-house. He had joined a company of strolling players, among whom, by his drolleries and good nature, he soon acquired the appellation of Comical Ned. At length, Garrick engaged him at Drury Lane. “He was so thoroughly acquainted,” says a critical authority, “with the vis comica, that he seldom called in those common auxiliaries, grimace and buffoonery, but rested entirely on genuine humour. He had strong features, and a peculiar turn of face, which, without any natural deformity, he threw into the most ridiculous shapes.” His facetiousness was irresistible. Being in disgrace, on one occasion, for some irregularity in his performance, the audience demanded an apology, and vehemently called for him, after he had made his exit. At the time they were vociferating “Shuter! Shuter!” an actress happened to be the only person on the stage, when Shuter, poking out his comical face, from behind one of the scenes, called out, “Don’t shoot her!” which restored the good temper of the spectators for the rest of the evening.

It is a strange fact, that, this remarkable man――“the greatest comic genius I ever saw,” said Garrick[418]――was now one of Whitefield’s constant hearers. Hence the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:――

“LONDON, March 2, 1757.

“Not many mighty, not many noble, are called; but some come to hear at Tottenham Court. Shuter, the player, always makes one of the auditory, and, as I hear, is much impressed, and brings others with him.”

The good Countess, from this, was led to take an interest in Shuter’s welfare. In a letter, to Lady Fanny Shirley, she says:――

“I have had a visit from Shuter, the comedian, whom I saw in the street, and asked to call on me. He was wonderfully astonished when I announced my name. We had much conversation; but he cannot give up his profession for another more reputable. He spoke of Mr. Whitefield with great affection, and with admiration of his talents. He promised to come some other time, when he had more leisure for conversation. Poor fellow! I think he is not far from the kingdom.”[419]

It is related that on one occasion, when Shuter was in the height of his reputation, as the representative of “Ramble,” and while he was seated in a pew exactly in front of the pulpit of Tottenham Court chapel, Whitefield was inviting sinners to the Saviour, with his accustomed earnestness, and, at the moment, caught Shuter’s eye, and exclaimed, “And thou, poor Ramble, who hast long rambled from Him, come thou also. Oh, end thy ramblings by coming to Jesus!”[420] This, certainly, was more personal than polite; but poor Shuter bore it. Long after, when his friends used to rate him as a Methodist, he would say, “A precious method is mine! No, I wish I were; for if any be right, the Methodists are.”[421]

On Monday, April 25, Whitefield set out for Scotland. Sixteen days afterwards, he arrived in Edinburgh, where he at once commenced preaching in his old open-air cathedral, the Orphan Hospital Park, and, for nearly a month, preached twice a day, morning and evening, “to very numerous audiences.”[422]

In all respects, this was a memorable visit. A week after Whitefield’s arrival, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland met at Edinburgh, Charles, the ninth Baron of Cathcart, being his Majesty’s commissioner,――“a nobleman no less distinguished for the virtues which adorn private life, than he was eminent for all those which exalt a public character. In the capacity of father, husband, and friend, his lordship had few equals, and was exceeded by none in discharging, with dignity and ability, the duties of the high stations in which he had been placed by his sovereign.”[423] The Rev. William Leechman, D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow, was chosen moderator. Leechman was a celebrated preacher, a popular lecturer, “a man,” says Sir Henry Moncreiff, “of primitive and apostolic manners, equally distinguished by his love of literature and his liberal opinions.”[424] The sessions of the Assembly were continued from the 19th to the 30th of May, and Whitefield attended every one of them. “On Saturday, the 28th, he dined, by invitation, with the commissioner, (though not at the same table,) and said grace after dinner.”[425] Much important business was transacted. A committee was appointed “to consider the laws relating to the election and qualifications of members of Assembly.” An act of the Synod of Argyle, “that the use of sermons on the Saturday before, and Monday after, dispensing the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, be discontinued in all time coming,” occasioned a long debate, but was ultimately approved. A minister was arraigned for attending a theatre. A second minister, accused of the same offence, pleaded “that he had gone to the playhouse only once, and endeavoured to conceal himself in a corner.” Lengthened discussions followed, and a resolution was passed, “earnestly recommending the several Presbyteries to take care that none of their ministers do, upon any account, attend the theatre.” Another resolution was approved, forbidding “simoniacal practices.” Several cases of “double presentation” to livings had to be decided. A scandal respecting the Rev. William Brown occupied considerable time; but the result was, the Assembly “assoilzied Mr. Brown.” Appeals and petitions from ministers were heard, and resolutions were passed respecting the fund for ministers’ widows, and “anent ministers making agreements with their heritors concerning the extent of their stipends.”

Listening to learned and long debates on these and kindred subjects was Whitefield’s daily recreation between his morning and evening preachings.

On June 6, he set out for Glasgow, where he continued several days.[426] An extract from the Scots’ Magazine for 1757, page 322, may be welcome:――

“In a letter from Glasgow, of June 19, we have the following account: ‘On Monday last, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, at the desire of several of our magistrates, preached a sermon for the benefit of the poor of this city, from Mark vi. 34. At the conclusion of his discourse, he pressed the charity with many solid arguments. A number of the magistrates and elders stood up to collect at the outside of the congregation; who went away with regularity, and gave their contributions very cheerfully. The whole amounted to £58 sterling, which is all to be applied to the relief of our poor. After the sermon, the magistrates waited on Mr. Whitefield, and thanked him for this good office, which has given great and general satisfaction.’”

At Whitefield’s farewell sermon in the Orphan Hospital Park, Edinburgh, there was a young Scotchman present, who afterwards became one of Wesley’s most faithful and sturdy itinerants. Thomas Rankin, born at Dunbar, was now resident at Leith, and came to Edinburgh to hear the great preacher. He writes:――

“I had often before had thoughts of hearing Mr. Whitefield; but so many things had been said to me of him, that I was afraid I should be deceived. He preached in the field adjoining the Orphan House yard. His text was Isaiah xxxiii. 13–17. The sermon exceeded all the sermons I ever heard. About the middle of it, I ventured to look up, and saw all the crowds around Mr. Whitefield bathed in tears. I listened with wonder and surprise, and had such a discovery of the plan of salvation as I had never known before. I was astonished at myself that I had listened to the idle tales concerning him, and thereby have been kept from hearing a burning and shining light, who had been instrumental in the hand of God for the good of so many thousands of souls. When I understood he was about to leave Edinburgh, I was distressed. I remembered more of that sermon than of all the sermons I had ever heard. I had a discovery of the unsearchable riches of the grace of God in Christ Jesus; as also of how a lost sinner was to come to God, and obtain mercy through the Redeemer. From this time, I was truly convinced of the necessity of a change of heart.”[427]

As already stated, Thomas Rankin became one of ♦Wesley’s most valuable preachers. His labours, both in England and in America, were of great importance; and, if no other end had been accomplished by Whitefield’s present visit to the Scotch metropolis, the conversion of Rankin was an ample compensation for all his toil and travelling.

Whitefield’s account of his visit is brief and imperfect. He writes on May 31st: “Attendance upon the Assembly, and preaching, have engrossed all my time.” In another letter, dated Glasgow, June 9, 1757, he remarks:――

“At Edinburgh, I was so taken up all day, and kept up so late at night, that writing was almost impracticable. Surely, my going thither was of God. I came there on the 12th of May, and left the 6th of June, and preached just fifty times. To what purpose, the great day will discover. I have reason to believe to very good purpose. Being the time of the General Assembly, (at which I was much pleased,) many ministers attended, perhaps a hundred at a time. Thereby prejudices were removed, and many of their hearts were deeply impressed. About thirty of them, as a token of respect, invited me to a public entertainment. The Lord High Commissioner also invited me to his table; and many persons of credit and religion did the same in a public manner. Thousands and thousands, among whom were a great many of the best rank, daily attended on the word preached; and the longer I stayed, the more the congregations and Divine influence increased. Twice I preached in my way to Glasgow; and, last night, opened my campaign here. The cloud seems to move towards Ireland. How the Redeemer vouchsafes to deal with me there, you shall know hereafter.”

Whitefield’s previous visit to Ireland had been greatly blessed. The people longed to give him another welcome. One section of his converts had laid the foundation of a prosperous Moravian church. Another had formed a Baptist congregation. A number of others were scattered, and needed encouragement.[428] He went to help them, and his visit was memorable. To the day of his death, a deep scar in his head was a memento of it.[429] He shall tell his own story.

“DUBLIN, June 30, 1757.

“The door is open, and indeed the poor Methodists want help. Here, in Dublin, the congregations are very large, and very much impressed. The Redeemer vouchsafes to me great freedom in preaching, and arrows of conviction fly and fasten. One of the bishops told a nobleman, he was glad I was come to rouse the people. The nobleman himself told me this yesterday. Alas! that so few have the ambition of coming out to the help of the Lord against the mighty. Not one clergyman, in all Ireland, is as yet stirred up to come out singularly for God. Pity, Lord, for Thy mercy’s sake! I think God will yet appear for the Protestant interest. My route now is to Athlone, Limerick, and Cork; and to return here about July 21st.”

“DUBLIN, July 3, 1757.

“The infinitely condescending Jesus still vouchsafes to follow the chief of sinners with His unmerited blessing. In Scotland, His almighty arm was most powerfully revealed; and here, in Dublin, many have begun to say, ‘What shall we do to be saved?’ Congregations are large, and very much impressed. All sorts attend, and all sorts seem to be affected. I should be glad to come to London, but cannot in conscience as yet. Not one minister, either in the Church or among the Dissenters, in this kingdom, as far as I can hear, appears boldly for God. To-morrow, therefore, I purpose to set out for Athlone, Limerick, and Cork. God only knows where, after that, will be the next remove. Perhaps to London; perhaps to the north of Ireland, which, I hear, lies open for the gospel. Winter must be the London harvest. O for more labourers, who will account the work itself the best wages!

“July 5. Since writing the above, I have been in the wars; but, blessed be God, am pretty well recovered, and going on my way rejoicing. Pray hard.”

“July 9, 1757.

“You have heard of my being in Ireland, and of my preaching to large and affected auditories in Mr. Wesley’s spacious room. When here last, I preached in a more confined place on the week-days, and once or twice ventured out to Oxmanton Green, a large place like Moorfields, situated very near the barracks, where the Ormond[430] and Liberty (that is, high and low party) Boys generally assemble every Sunday, to fight with each other. The congregations then were very numerous, the word seemed to come with power, and no noise or disturbance ensued. This encouraged me to give notice, that I would preach there again last Sunday afternoon.

“I went through the barracks, the door of which opens into the Green, and pitched my tent near the barrack walls, not doubting of the protection, or at least interposition, of the officers and soldiery, if there should be occasion. But how vain is the help of man! Vast was the multitude that attended. We sang, prayed, and preached, without much molestation; only, now and then, a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at me. It being war time, I exhorted my hearers, as is my usual practice, not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings; and, after the sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms.[431]

“All being over, I thought to return home the way I came; but, to my great surprise, access to the barracks was denied, so that I had to go near half a mile, from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, etc. Finding me unattended, (for a soldier and four Methodist preachers,[432] who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their mercy. Their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty. Vollies of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step I took, a fresh stone struck, and made me reel backwards and forwards, till I was almost breathless, and was covered all over with blood. My strong beaver hat served me, as it were, for a skullcap for a while; but, at last, that was knocked off, and my head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large near my temples. Providentially, a minister’s house stood next door to the Green. With great difficulty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to, and shut upon me. Some of the mob, in the meantime, broke part of the boards of the pulpit into splinters, and beat and wounded my servant grievously in his head and arms, and then came and drove him from the door of the house where I had found a refuge.

“For a while, I continued speechless, expecting every breath to be my last. Two or three of my friends, by some means, got admission, and kindly washed my wounds. I gradually revived, but soon found the lady of the house desired my absence, for fear the house should be pulled down. What to do, I knew not, being near two miles from Mr. Wesley’s place. Some advised one thing, and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends who came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off in disguise. I accepted of them, and put them on, but was soon ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper habit, and threw them off in disdain. Immediately, deliverance came. A Methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach; I leaped into it, and rode, in gospel triumph, through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists, unhurt.

“None but those who were spectators of the scene can form an idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping, mourning, but now joyful Methodists. A Christian surgeon was ready to dress my wounds, which being done, I went into the preaching place, and, after giving a word of exhortation, joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him, who makes our extremity His opportunity, and who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people.

“The next morning, I set out for Port Arlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors has often made preachers.”[433]

The hard knocks Whitefield received from the Dublin papists did not prevent the carrying out of his plan to visit the towns already mentioned. Hence the following:――

“CORK, July 15, 1757.

“Everywhere the glorious Emmanuel so smiles upon my feeble labours, that it is hard to get away from Ireland. At Port-Arlington, Athlone, Limerick, and this place, the word has run and been glorified. Arrows of conviction seem to fly; and the cup of many has been made to run over. I have met with some hard blows from the Dublin rabble; but, blessed be God! they have not destroyed me.”

In another letter, addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow, and dated, “Wednesbury, Staffordshire, August 7, 1757,” he wrote:――

“Though Mr. Hopper promised to write you an historical letter, from Dublin, I cannot help dropping you a few lines from this place. At Athlone, Limerick, Cork, and especially at Dublin, where I preached near fifty times, we had Cambuslang seasons. With the utmost difficulty, I came away. The blows I received were like to send me where all partings would have been over. But, I find, we are immortal till our work is done.”

Whitefield found it difficult to get away; but it is a notable fact that he never went again. This was his last visit to Ireland! He went but twice, and both of his visits put together were not of three months’ continuance. Wesley made twenty visits, most of them of long duration. Ireland’s debt to Whitefield is but small; but to Wesley great.

After an absence of about four months, Whitefield got back to London. One of the first things that claimed his attention was the business of his Orphan House, which had recently been visited by the governor of Georgia. The following was addressed to his housekeeper:――

“LONDON, August 26, 1757.

“I think myself happy, in finding you are satisfied in your present situation. I would rather have you to preside over the orphan family than any woman I know. I do not love changes. Sometimes I wish for wings to fly over; but Providence detains me here.[434] I fear a dreadful storm is at hand. Lord Jesus, be Thou our refuge! At Dublin, I was like to be sent beyond the reach of storms. A most blessed influence attended the word in various parts of Ireland; and here, in London, the prospect is more and more promising. As to outward things, all is gloomy. I hope Bethesda will be kept in peace. I am glad the governor has been to visit the house. May God make him a blessing to the colony! I wish you would let me know how the English children are disposed of. I would fain have a list of black and white, from time to time. Blessed be God for the increase of the negroes! I entirely approve of reducing the number of orphans as low as possible; and I am determined to take in no more than the plantation will maintain, till I can buy more negroes. Never was I so well satisfied with my assistants as now.”

Whitefield’s stay in London was short. Accompanied by the Revs. Martin Madan and Henry Venn, he soon set out, on a six weeks’ journey, to the west of England. Extracts from two of his letters will furnish an idea of his spirit and his work.

“EXETER, September 28, 1757.

“Blessed be God! I can send you good news concerning Plymouth. The scene was like that of Bristol, only more extraordinary. Officers, soldiers, sailors, and the dockmen attended, with the utmost solemnity, upon the word preached. Arrows of conviction flew and fastened; and I left all God’s people upon the wing for heaven. Blessed be the Lord Jesus for ordering me the lot of a cast-out! I am glad that Mr. Madan and Mr. Venn returned safe. May an effectual door be opened for both! If so, they will have many adversaries. If the weather should alter, I may be in town before long; if not, I may range farther. This spiritual hunting is delightful sport, when the heart is in the work.”

The next is taken from a letter to the Rev. John Gillies. The “Counsellor” mentioned was Mr. Madan, who, before his ordination, practised at the bar.

“LONDON, October 16, 1757.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I thank you for your sympathising letter sent to Ireland. The Friend of sinners stood by me, or I had been stoned to death. Stones were thrown at me, not for speaking against the papists in particular, but, for exciting all ranks to be faithful to King Jesus, and to our dear sovereign King George, for His great name’s sake.

“Seven gospel ministers were together at Bristol, when the Counsellor preached. We have had blessed seasons, for these six weeks last past, at Plymouth, Exeter, Bristol, Gloucester, and Gloucestershire. This comes from my winter quarters.”

Whitefield was again in London, where he continued for seven months.

The “Counsellor,” the Rev. Martin Madan, was now a red-hot evangelist. He had preached through Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Warwickshire, Worcestershire, and Gloucestershire.[435] The number of Methodist clergymen was rather rapidly increasing. Besides Whitefield, the Wesleys, Hervey, Grimshaw, Romaine, Madan, Venn, Walker, and others already mentioned in this biography, there were now the Rev. James Stillingfleet, ultimately rector of Hotham, in Yorkshire; the Rev. Mr. Downing, chaplain to the Earl of Dartmouth; and the Rev. William Talbot, LL.D., vicar of Kineton, in Warwickshire, a man of aristocratic family.[436] In this year, 1757, not fewer than five of these earnest clergymen, Messrs. Walker, Talbot, Downing, Stillingfleet, and Madan, at the request of Lord Dartmouth,[437] had preached at Cheltenham.[438] On three or four occasions, Mr. Downing obtained the pulpit of the parish church; but the rector and the churchwardens interposed, and the zealous Methodist was excluded. Lord Dartmouth then opened his own house for preaching, twice a week; and, sometimes, the seminary of Mr. Samuel Wells was used for the same purpose.[439] In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, his lordship wrote:――

“I wish your ladyship would use your influence with Mr. Whitfield and Mr. Romaine to pay us a visit. Mr. Stillingfleet has been obliged to return to Oxford, and I know not where to direct to Mr. Madan or Mr. Venn. Mr. Talbot has promised to come as soon as possible; and, next month, I expect good Mr. Walker, of Truro. The rector was so displeased with Mr. Downing preaching, and the great crowds who flocked to hear him, that he excluded him from the pulpit after three or four sermons, and refused to admit Mr. Stillingfleet, though I said everything I could to induce him to do so. Since then, I have opened my house, but find it too small for the numbers who solicit permission to attend. I have no hopes of again obtaining the use of the parish church.”

Just at this time, Madan came to Cheltenham, and was soon after joined by Venn, and by Maddock, the latter the curate of Hervey, of Weston-Favel. Contrary to the expectations of Lord Dartmouth, both Madan and Venn were several times admitted to the parish pulpit. Then came Whitefield, and an immense crowd collected, expecting that he also would preach in the church. Attended by Lord and Lady Dartmouth, and by Messrs. Madan, Venn, Talbot, and Downing, the renowned preacher proceeded to the church door. They found it closed against them. Whitefield, never at a loss for pulpits, mounted a neighbouring tombstone, and preached. The Rev. Henry Venn shall tell the remainder of the story. In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, he wrote:――

“Under Mr. Whitefield’s sermon, many, among the immense crowd that filled every part of the burial ground, were overcome with fainting. Some sobbed deeply; others wept silently; and a solemn concern appeared on the countenance of almost the whole assembly. When he came to impress the injunction in the text (Isaiah li. 1) his words seemed to cut like a sword, and several in the congregation burst out into the most piercing bitter cries. Mr. Whitefield, at this juncture, made a pause, and then burst into a flood of tears. During this short interval, Mr. Madan and myself stood up, and requested the people to restrain themselves, as much as possible, from making any noise. Twice afterwards, we had to repeat the same counsel. O with what eloquence, energy, and melting tenderness, did Mr. Whitefield beseech sinners to be reconciled to God! When the sermon was ended, the people seemed chained to the ground. Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, Mr. Downing, and myself found ample employment in endeavouring to comfort those broken down under a sense of guilt. We separated in different directions among the crowd, and each was quickly surrounded by an attentive audience, still eager to hear all the words of this life.

“The next day, a like scene was witnessed, when dear Mr. Whitefield preached to a prodigious congregation from Isaiah lv. 6. In the evening, Mr. Talbot preached at Lord Dartmouth’s, to as many as the rooms would hold. Hundreds crowded round his lordship’s residence, anxiously expecting Mr. Whitefield to preach. Exhausted as he was from his exertions in the morning, when he heard that there were multitudes without, he stood upon a table near the front of the house, and ♦proclaimed the efficacy of the Saviour’s blood to cleanse the vilest of the vile.

“Intelligence of the extraordinary power attending the word soon spread, and the next day we had Mr. Charles Wesley and many friends from Bristol, Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Rodborough, and the villages in the neighbourhood; but all loud weeping and piercing cries had subsided, and the work of conversion went on in a more silent manner. For several days, we have had public preaching, which has been well attended, and much solid good has been done.

“Mr. Whitefield and myself purpose leaving this for London the day after to-morrow; and Mr. Madan and Mr. Talbot go in a few days to Northamptonshire.”[440]

This was a glorious “mission week,” in Cheltenham churchyard, a hundred and twenty-nine years ago. It is rather remarkable that Whitefield himself has left no account of it; but, shortly after, he wrote, as follows, to Mr. Madan, pursuing his “mission” work in Northamptonshire.

“LONDON, November 3, 1757.

“Your kind letter was very acceptable. Ere now, I trust, the Redeemer has given you the prospect of the barren wilderness being turned into a fruitful field. Never fear. Jesus will delight to honour you. Every clergyman’s name is Legion. Two more are lately ordained.[441] The kingdom of God suffereth violence, and, if we would take it by force, we must do violence to our softest passions, and be content to be esteemed unkind by those whose idols we once were. This is hard work; but, Abba, Father, all things are possible with Thee!

“Blessed be God! for putting it into your heart to ask my pulpit for a week-day sermon. Are we not commanded to be instant in season and out of season? If dear Mrs. Madan will take my word for it, I will be answerable for your health. The joy resulting from doing good will be a continual feast. God knows how long our time of working may last. This order undoes us. As affairs now stand, we must be disorderly, or useless. O for more labourers!

“I am told thousands went away last Sunday evening from Tottenham Court, for want of room. Every day produces fresh accounts of good being done. At this end of the town, the word runs, and is glorified more and more. Last Friday, we had a most solemn fast. I preached thrice. Thousands attended; and, I humbly hope, our prayers entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. More bad news from America about our fleet. God humble and reform us! Go on, my dear sir, and tell a sinful nation, that sin and unbelief are the accursed things which prevent success. Thus, at last, we shall deliver our souls, and be free from the blood of all men.

“That you may return to London in all the fulness of the blessings of the gospel of Christ, is and shall be the prayer of, dear sir,

“Yours, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

While Whitefield was acquiring new friends, he was losing old ones. Jonathan Belcher, governor of the province of New Jersey, died on August 31, 1757; and Aaron Burr, President of New Jersey College, within a month afterwards. “The deaths of Governor Belcher, and President Burr,” wrote Whitefield, “are dark providences; but Jesus lives and reigns. Lord, raise up Elishas in the room of ascended Elijahs!”[442]

Whitefield’s correspondence was enormous. As a rule, no letters have been introduced in the present work, except such as contained facts and statements illustrative of his work and history. Mere friendly letters, though existing in great numbers, have been excluded. As a specimen of hundreds of others, which might have been inserted, the following, hitherto unpublished, may be welcome. They relate to the marriage of the grandfather and grandmother of James Rooker, Esq., solicitor, at Bideford, by whom they have been courteously lent:――

“LONDON, November 15, 1757.

“DEAR MISS MOLLY,――Though weak in body, yet, as perhaps it may be the last time I may write to you in your present position, be pleased to accept a few valedictory lines.

“I think you may cheerfully say, ‘I will go with the man.’ Providence seems to have directed you to one who, I trust, will love you as Christ loves the Church. My poor prayers will always follow you. That you may be a mother in Israel, and, in every respect, be enabled to walk as becometh the wife of a true minister of Jesus Christ, is, and shall be, the ardent desire of, dear Miss Molly, your affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“To Miss Molly Shepherd.”

“LONDON, January 17, 1758. “Seven in the morning.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――I wish you joy, from my inmost soul, of being married to one of the best-women, and of being admitted into one of the best families in England. I never had the least doubt of your affair being of God. You have called Jesus and His disciples to the marriage; and your letter sent me to my knees with tears of joy and strong cryings that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus may bless you both. You need not ask, my dear sir, the continuance of my friendship. I value you as a dear minister of Christ, and as the husband of one who was presented by her honoured father at the table of the Lord. I doubt not of her being a help-meet for you,――a mother in Israel. May you, like Zachary and Elizabeth, be enabled to walk in all the ordinances and commandments of the Lord blameless! I am glad the dear little female flock at Bideford will have such an agreeable addition to their society. That grace, mercy, and peace may be multiplied on them and you, is, and shall be, the hearty prayer of, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate friend and ready servant in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“My wife joins in cordial respects. “To the Rev. Mr. Lavington.”

Scores of such letters might be introduced,――the spontaneous effusions of a warm-hearted Christian friendship.

Whitefield’s incessant and arduous labours began to affect his health. Hence the following extracts from his correspondence:――

“London, November 26, 1757. Last week, my poor feeble labours almost brought me to the grave; but preaching three times, yesterday, on account of the late success of the Prussians, has somewhat recovered me. It was a high day: thousands and thousands attended.”

“London, December 14, 1757. By New Year’s Day, I hope, we shall be able to discharge our Tottenham Court chapel debts. Every day proves more and more that it was built for the glory of Christ, and the welfare of many precious and immortal souls. But my attendance on that, and the Tabernacle too, with a weak body, outward cares, and inward trials, has, of late, frequently brought me near to my wished-for port. I am brought to the short allowance of preaching but once a day, and thrice on a Sunday.

“Round the Tottenham Court chapel there is a most beautiful piece of ground, and some good folks have purposed erecting almshouses on each side, for godly widows. I have a plan for twelve. The whole expense will be £400. We have got £100. The widows are to have half a crown a week. The sacrament money, which will be more than enough, is to be devoted to this purpose. Thus will many widows be provided for, and a standing monument be left, that the Methodists were not against good works.”

Thus did Whitefield end the year 1757 in caring for widows, as, for the last twenty years, he had cared for orphans.

He began the new year, 1758, with a devout outburst of patriotic gratitude. As already stated, Frederick, King of Prussia, had recently won a most important battle; and Whitefield wished to recognize the hand of God in the defeat of his country’s enemies. “Monday, January 2,” says the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1758, p. 41, “was observed as a day of thanksgiving, at the chapel in Tottenham Court Road, by Mr. Whitefield’s people, for the signal victories gained by the King of Prussia over his enemies.”

It was a trial to Whitefield to be obliged to preach but once a day on week-days, and thrice on Sundays; but, as usual, he was thankful and jubilant. The debt on the chapel in Tottenham Court Road was paid; his friend Martin Madan had become a son of thunder; numbers of sinners were being saved; and the political horizon was growing brighter. The following are extracts from his letters:――

“London, January 12, 1758. A more effectual door than ever seems to be opening in this metropolis. A counsellor, lately ordained, turns out a Boanerges. Thousands and thousands flock to hear the everlasting gospel. Let us wrestle in prayer for each other.”

“London, January 17, 1758. What can reconcile us to stay longer on earth, but the prospect of seeing the kingdom of the Lord Jesus advanced? It is very promising in London. Mr. Madan is a Boanerges. The chapel is made a Bethel. Blessed be God! all the debt is paid.”

The godly and benevolent John Thornton, Esq., was now a young man rising rapidly into notice. In his house, at Clapham, Whitefield frequently expounded to large assemblies.[443] To Miss Gideon,[444] the friend and correspondent of Venn, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“London, February 3, 1758. I am reduced to the short allowance of preaching once a day, except thrice on a Sunday. At both ends of the town, the word runs and is glorified. The champions in the Church go on like sons of thunder. I am to be at Clapham this evening. Mr. Venn will gladly embrace the first opportunity. Bristol, in all probability, will be my first spring excursion.”

In another letter, of the same date, he wrote:――

“The plan concerted some time ago is likely to be put into execution. The trenches for the wall are begun; and, by the 1st of May, the almshouses are to be finished. If possible, I would furnish them, that the poor might be sure of goods, as well as a house. The thing has scarce, as yet, taken wind. By thoughtfulness, frequent preaching, and a crazy tabernacle, my nightly rests are continually broken; but the joy of the Lord is my strength. I hope ere long to be where I shall keep awake for ever.”

The next letter, addressed to Professor Francke, of Germany, though containing but little additional information, is too interesting to be omitted.

“LONDON, March 5, 1758.

“MOST REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――Through grace, the fields are as ready to harvest as ever. In the summer, I range; and, with a table for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding-board, I am enabled, generally thrice a day, to call to many thousands to come to Jesus that they may have life. In the winter, I am confined to London; but, to my great mortification, through continual vomitings, want of rest, and of appetite, I have been reduced, for some time, to the short allowance of preaching only once a day, except Sundays, when I generally preach thrice. Thousands attend every evening, at both ends of the town; and, on Sundays, many, many go away for want of room. The Divine presence is amongst us, and every week produces fresh instances of the power of converting grace.

“Blessed be God! we meet with no disturbances in town, and very seldom in the country; but last year, while I was preaching in the fields in Ireland, a popish mob was so incensed at my proclaiming the Lord our Righteousness, and at my praying for our good old King, and the King of Prussia, that they surrounded, stoned, and almost killed me. But we are immortal till our work is done. Glad should I have been to have died in such a cause.

“Mr. Wesley has Societies in Ireland and elsewhere; and, though we differ a little in some principles, yet brotherly love continues. When itinerating, I generally preach among his people, as freely as among those who are called our own.

“In London, several new flaming preachers are come forth; and we hear of others, in various parts of the kingdom, who seem determined to know and preach nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.

“Thousands and thousands are now praying daily for success to the Prussian and Hanoverian arms. Your fast-days were kept here with great solemnity; and will be so again, God willing, when I know the day. Our Joshuas are in the field. Many a Moses is gone up into the mount to pray. ‘Nil desperandum Christo duce, auspice Christo.’ He who wrought such wonders for the Prussian monarch last year, can repeat them this. The distresses of German Protestants, we look upon as our own. We have also endeavoured to give thanks for the great mercy vouchsafed your Orphan House, and the Protestant cause.”

In the third week of the month of May, Whitefield left his “winter quarters,” and set out for the west of England, and for Wales. He began his journey in a one-horse chaise; but driving prevented his reading, and the vehicle nearly shook him to pieces.[445] His servant, also, “who rode the fore-horse, was often exceedingly splashed with dirt, when the roads were bad.” For such reasons, Whitefield wished to exchange his humble conveyance for a more convenient one. He arrived at Gloucester, on Saturday, May 20; and, on the following day, preached thrice and administered the holy sacrament. On Tuesday, May 23, he came to Bristol, and, for the next five days, preached twice daily, either at Bristol, Bath, or Kingswood. His chaise still troubled him, and he longed for “a good four-wheel carriage for £30 or £40.” “I would not,” says he, “lay out a single farthing, but for my blessed Master.” On Monday, May 29, in the best way he could, he started for Wales. On his return to Bristol, he wrote a series of letters to a number of his aristocratic friends. The following are extracts:――

To the Countess Delitz:――

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. Never was I brought so low as on my late circuit in Wales; but, as far as I can hear, it was one of the most prosperous I ever took. Twice every day, thousands and thousands attended, in various towns in South Wales; and, on the Sundays, the numbers were incredible. Welcome, thrice welcome, death in such a cause!”

To Captain H――――y:――

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. The Welsh roads have almost demolished my open one-horse chaise, as well as me. I am almost ashamed of your being put to so much trouble, in procuring a close chaise for me; but I like the purchase exceeding well. The legacy is wonderful. I can give it away with a good grace. At present, I think the Orphan House shall have the whole. It is much wanted there.”

To Lady Huntingdon:――

“Bristol, June 17, 1758. This leaves me returned from Wales. It proved a most delightful trying circuit. I suppose your ladyship has heard how low I have been in body,――scarce ever lower,――not able to sit up in company all the time, yet strengthened to travel without food, and to preach to thousands every day. The great congregation at Haverfordwest consisted of near fifteen thousand. O for some disinterested soul to help at the chapel during the summer season! Spiritual, divine ambition, whither art thou fled? But I see such honours are reserved for few. I rejoice in the increase of your ladyship’s spiritual routs; and can guess at the consolations such uncommon scenes must afford you.”

The “spiritual routs,” here mentioned, were meetings held twice a week, in the house of the Countess of Huntingdon, and at which Romaine, Madan, and Venn officiated. They were remarkable gatherings, and included, among others, the Duchess of Bedford, the Duchess of Grafton, Lady Jane Scott, Lord and Lady Dacre, Mr. and Lady Anne Connolly, Lady Elizabeth Keppell, Lady Betty Waldegrave, Lady Coventry, Lord Weymouth, Lord Tavistock, the Duchess of Hamilton, the Duchess of Richmond, Lady Ailesbury, Lord and Lady Hertford, Lady Townsend, Lord Trafford, Lord Northampton, Lady Hervey, Lady Pembroke, Lady Northumberland, Lady Rebecca Paulet, Lord Edgecumbe, Lord Lyttleton, Lady Essex, etc., etc.[446] It is impossible to estimate the far-reaching results of meetings like these. A current of Christian influence was created, which affected a large portion of the aristocracy of the land, and, through them, a countless number of other people.

Whitefield bewails the want of men to preach in his Tottenham Court Road chapel. At this very time, he was corresponding with a young man, twenty-three years of age, Robert Robinson, afterwards the famous Dissenting minister at Cambridge. Robinson had recently left London, and gone to Norwich. Here, on May 10, 1758, he wrote Whitefield a long letter, telling him that, six years ago, curiosity drew him to the Tabernacle, to pity Whitefield’s folly, and to abhor the doctrines he preached. Whitefield took for his text, “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Robinson says, he “went pitying the poor deluded Methodists; but came away envying their happiness.” He constantly attended the Tabernacle for two years and seven months before he found peace with God. He had now begun to preach, and writes:――

“How often do I tremble lest I should run before I am sent; yet I dare not say the Lord has left me without witness. Multitudes of people come to hear the word, both in Norwich and the country.”[447]

Whitefield replied to Robinson’s letter as follows:――

“BRISTOL, May 25, 1758.

“Why did you not make your case known to me before you left London? What motives induced you to leave it? How came you to go to Norwich? What prospect have you of a growing people? You may send a line to London, and it will be forwarded to me in the country. I have now opened my summer’s campaign. The Redeemer has given us a good beginning. Who knows but we shall have a glorious ending? He is all in all. You find that He strengthens and blesses you in His work, and causes your rod to bud and blossom. That your bow may abide in strength, that you may be clothed with humility, and that the arms of your hands may be continually strengthened by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob, is the earnest prayer of your affectionate friend in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[448]

Robinson answered Whitefield’s questions:――

“You ask, sir, why I did not make myself known to you in London? The plain truth is this, I had such a sense of my unworthiness, that I thought your conversation too great an honour for me to enjoy.”

Robinson assigns as his reasons for leaving London, the desire of his relatives to see him; a hope that residing in the country would improve his health; and especially a fear that, if he stayed, his London friends would make him preach before God called him. As to the reason of his going to Norwich, he writes:――

“My intention was to settle in the farming business in the country; but there I found many souls awakened, who had the word preached but now and then. We met in the evenings to sing and pray and speak our experience. They often solicited me to preach among them, as did some neighbouring Dissenting ministers. I long refused; till they wrung their hands, and wept bitterly, and told me they were starving for the word. With many doubts and fears, I, at last, agreed to their request. People came from adjacent towns to hear me. I was invited higher up the country. At length, some of Mr. Wheatley’s friends informed him of me. He sent his clerk, entreating me to come to Norwich. I did come; and, according to the present appearance of things, I apprehend I shall be fixed here.”

In reply to Whitefield’s fourth question, Robinson remarked:――

“As to the ‘prospect of a growing people,’――sometimes I think it bids fair for it; sometimes I think otherwise. The church I preach to has near forty members, and many more are desirous of being received. On the Lord’s-day, we have several hundreds of hearers, who seem very serious, and enquiring the way to Zion. On the week-days, we have abundance of people to hear; and, I hope, the Lord does not let His word return void. The country people frequently send for me, on the days I do not preach at Norwich; and multitudes come to hear, so that the preaching houses will not hold them. However, I can go upon the commons; and, blessed be God! there is room there; and, what is best of all, there is room enough and to spare in my Master’s house. By the time I have preached in public, and have visited, exhorted, and prayed with the people in private, and have kept a little time to enjoy my God in my closet, I find my day is gone; but it is an honour to be busy for Christ. O that my soul may be found living and dying in it!

“My dear sir, I rejoice in your prosperity in the gospel. Go where I will, I find some of your spiritual children;――some awakened by hearing you, and some by reading your sermons. Dear sir, go on preaching; and we will go on praying for you; and who knows what a prayer-hearing God may do? I am really ashamed of my long letter; but, methinks, I am now opening my heart to a tender father, who, I trust, will excuse my infirmities.

“I remain, dear sir, your affectionate son and servant in Christ,

“ROBERT ROBINSON.”[449]

Thus did Robert Robinson become a preacher,――a man who rose to sufficient eminence to have one of his publications discussed in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords; whose learning and services were such as to procure for him the offer of the diploma of D.D. from a Scotch University; and yet, lamentable to relate, who became so loose in his theology as to die under the imputation of being a Socinian.

After his return from Wales, Whitefield’s stay in London was brief. Towards the end of July, he set out for Scotland; in journeying towards which, he formed an acquaintance with another recently converted clergyman, who, for nearly thirty years afterwards, annually rendered important service in Whitefield’s London chapels. John Berridge, the well-known Vicar of Everton, had recently found peace with God, through faith in Christ; and, six months after the time of Whitefield’s visit, occurred those puzzling phenomena, the stricken cases, mentioned in Wesley’s Journal. It is rather remarkable, that, though Whitefield’s preaching was much more sensational than Wesley’s, no such effects seem to have been witnessed at Everton by him, as were witnessed by his friend. At all events, if such happened, he is silent concerning them. All that is known of his visit, is contained in the following letter:――

“NEWCASTLE, July 31, 1758.

“All the last week was taken up in preaching at Everton, St. Neots, Keysoe, Bedford, Olney, Weston-Favel, Underwood, Ravenstone, and Northampton. Four clergymen lent me their churches, and three read prayers for me in one day. I preached also in John Bunyan’s pulpit; and, at Northampton, I took the field. Good seasons at all the places. Mr. Berridge, who was lately awakened at Everton, promises to be a burning and shining light. Yesterday, we had good times here; and, to-morrow, I shall set off for Edinburgh. My bodily strength increases but very little. Sometimes I am almost tempted to turn back; but I hope to go forward, and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work.”

Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh on August 4, and, despite physical weakness, preached, for nearly a month, in the Orphan Hospital Park, to enormous congregations, morning and evening, every day.[450] Mr. Gillies invited him to Glasgow; but he replied:――

“I fear your kind invitation cannot be complied with. For above three months past, I have been so weak, that I could scarcely drag the crazy load along. I preach at Edinburgh twice a day; but I grow weaker and weaker. I suppose you have heard of the death of Mr. Jonathan Edwards. Happy he!”

In another letter he wrote:――

“EDINBURGH, August 19, 1758.

“I came here a fortnight ago, very low indeed; but, by preaching about thirty times, I am a good deal better. Multitudes, of all ranks, flock twice every day. I thought to have moved on Tuesday next, but, as it is the race week, and my health is improving, friends advise me to stay.”

On August 29, he went to Glasgow, where he remained a week. Here, after one of his sermons, he made a collection, amounting to nearly £60, on behalf of a Society, established in 1727, for educating and putting to trades the sons of Highlanders, and of which the Duke of Argyll was the principal member.[451]

Whitefield also preached three thanksgiving sermons, for the taking of Cape Breton, by Boscawen, Amherst, and Wolfe; for the defeat of the Russians, at the great battle of Custrin, by Frederick, King of Prussia; and for the victory over the Austrians and Imperialists, at Crevelt, by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick. “By his warm and repeated exhortations to loyalty, and a steady adherence to the Protestant interest,” said the Glasgow Courant, “Mr. Whitefield’s visit here has been useful to the community in a civil, as well as a religious, light.”

On September 6, Whitefield returned to Edinburgh, and, during another week, preached twice every day. On September 13, he set out for London. “By his visit,” says the Scots’ Magazine, “the Edinburgh Orphan Hospital has drawn upwards of £200, by the collections at the entry to the Park, and by the seat-rents.”

Remembering the value of money in 1758, these were enormous sums. No wonder, that, even on such a ground, the canny Scots were always ready to give to Whitefield a hearty welcome.

Glimpses of his preaching tour to London will be obtained in the following extracts from his letters:――

“DARLINGTON, September 21, 1758.

“At Edinburgh and Glasgow, my health grew better, and I was enabled to preach always twice, and sometimes thrice a day, to very large and affected auditories. In my way to Newcastle, I preached twice; and thrice in and about that place. Yesterday, I hope, some gospel seed fell on good ground at Durham and Bishop-Auckland. I am now on my way to Yarm, and hope next Lord’s-day to be at Leeds.”

“LEEDS, October 11, 1758.

“Though I have preached twice and sometimes thrice a day for above a fortnight past, preaching does not kill me. God has been giving blessed seasons. By next Lord’s-day, I am to be at Rotherham and Sheffield. Change of weather will alone drive me to winter quarters. Lord, prepare me for winter trials! They are preparative for an eternal summer.”

To his friend Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow, he wrote:――

“ROTHERHAM, October 15, 1758.

“Since my leaving Scotland, in various parts of the north of England, as at Alnwick, Newcastle, Leeds, etc., the ever loving, altogether lovely Jesus has manifested His glory. Thousands and thousands have flocked twice, and sometimes thrice a day to hear the word. Never did I see the fields whiter for a spiritual harvest. Praise the Lord, O our souls! If the weather continues fair, I hope to prolong my summer’s campaign. It shocks me to think of winter quarters yet. How soon does the year roll round! Lord Jesus, quicken my tardy pace! As they were in debt, at Leeds, for their building,[452] last Lord’s-day I collected for them near £50. Lord Jesus, help me to know no party but Thine! This, I am persuaded, is your catholic spirit. O for an increase of it among all denominations!”

From Sheffield, Whitefield proceeded to Staffordshire; and intended to go from there to Bristol; but “change of weather and the shortness of the days drove” him to his “winter quarters.” On reaching London, he wrote:――

“October 28. My health is somewhat improved, but a very little thing soon impairs it. Lord, help me! How very little can I do for Thee! We have had fine gospel seasons. Grace! grace!”[453]

These fragmentary records are truly marvellous. How a man, in such health, performed such labours, for months together, it is difficult to imagine.

Once again in London, his Orphan House demanded his attention. The family had been reduced, and he now had it in his “power to pay off all Bethesda’s arrears.” He sent a number of “Bibles and other books.” “He longed for an opportunity” to go himself; but the war prevented him, and he knew not how to get supplies for his two London chapels. He was, however, quite satisfied with the management of his housekeeper, and sent her “ten thousand thousand thanks.” He wished his superintendent to consign him “a little rice and indigo,” that his “friends might see some of the Orphan House produce.” Taken altogether, his affairs in Georgia were less embarrassing than usual.[454]

During the year, Whitefield had gained a new clerical friend, in Berridge of Everton; but, before it ended, he lost a friend, whom he dearly loved. James Hervey died on Christmas-day, 1758. Within a week of this mournful occurrence, Whitefield wrote the following pathetic letter to the dying rector of Weston-Favel:――

“LONDON, December 19, 1758.

“And is my dear friend indeed about to take his last flight? I dare not wish your return into this vale of tears. But our prayers are continually ascending to the Father of our spirits that you may die in the embraces of a never-failing Jesus, and in all the fulness of an exalted faith. O when will my time come! I groan in this tabernacle, being burdened, and long to be clothed with my house from heaven. Farewell! My very dear friend, f――a――r――e――well! Yet a little while, and we shall meet,――

‘Where sin, and strife, and sorrow cease, And all is love, and joy, and peace.’

“There Jesus will reward you for all the tokens of love which you have showed, for His great name’s sake, to yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

“P.S. God comfort your mother, and relations, and thousands and thousands more who will bewail your departure!”[455]

In the year 1758, Whitefield, comparatively speaking, “had rest” from persecution. The only exception was in the case of scurrilous Dr. Free, Vicar of East Coker, and Lecturer at St. Mary Hill, London, and at Newington, Surrey. On Whitsunday, this vehement defender of the Church, preached a sermon, before the University, at St. Mary’s, Oxford, which he immediately published, with a “Preface” and an “Appendix,” and a “Dedication” to the Archbishop of Canterbury. (8vo. 65 pp.) In his “Dedication,” Free informs the Archbishop, that, Wesley and Whitefield “have, by secret advances, so far stolen upon the common people, as to seduce many of all denominations from their proper pastors; and, aided by this mixed multitude, they threaten the Church of England, the bulwark of the Protestant cause, with a general alteration, or total subversion.” Free’s “Appendix” chiefly consists of extracts from Whitefield’s Journals, by which he pretends to prove――1. That the “Methodists experiment upon women in hysteric fits, and upon young persons in convulsions, under pretence of exorcising devils.” 2. That Whitefield professed to have received “extraordinary inspirations in his office as a preacher.” 3. That he and others had “attempted to set up a new form of church-government, through the kingdom, in contempt of the authority of the Bishops, and without any authority from the state.” 4. That they had propagated “atheistical doctrines and propositions, quite destructive to the morality and well-being of a state.” 5. That they had “abused the clergy in general, and the great lights of the Church in particular.” 6. That they “imagined God had made them the instruments of a great work.” 7. That they used “religiously amorous, melting, and rapturous expressions.”

Whitefield treated the ravings of the Rev. Dr. Free with silent contempt. Wesley wrote the doctor two “letters,” and then left him “to laugh, and scold, and witticise, and call names, just as he pleased.”

Little is known respecting Whitefield’s health, labours, and success, during the first four months of 1759.

On the 4th of January, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Bristol to meet Wesley, who accompanied her to Bath, and preached, to several of the nobility, in her house. Early in February, her ladyship returned to London, and, on Friday, the 16th, the day appointed for a public fast, she went to the Tabernacle, where Whitefield addressed an immense congregation from the words, “Rend your hearts, and not your garments.” At half-past eight in the evening, she heard Wesley at the Foundery, where he preached, to an overflowing multitude, from “Seek the Lord while He may be found.” Her ladyship, profoundly impressed with a conviction of the necessity and power of prayer, arranged for a series of intercession meetings in her own mansion. On Wednesday, February 21, the officiating ministers were Whitefield, Charles Wesley, Venn, and Thomas Maxfield. On Friday, the 23rd, the meeting was conducted by Romaine, Wesley, Madan, and Jones. On Tuesday, the 27th, Wesley writes: “I walked with my brother and Mr. Maxfield to Lady Huntingdon’s. After breakfast, came in Messrs. Whitefield, Madan, Romaine, Jones, Downing, and Venn, with some persons of quality, and a few others. Mr. Whitefield, I found, was to have administered the sacrament; but he insisted upon my doing it: after which, at the request of Lady Huntingdon, I preached on 1 Cor. xiii. 13. O what are the greatest men, to the great God! As the small dust of the balance.”[456] Charles Wesley adds to this account, by saying, “My brother preached, and won all our hearts. I never liked him better, and was never more united to him since his unhappy marriage. We dined at Mr. Madan’s, who took us in his coach.”[457] On Wednesday, the 28th, the service was conducted by Wesley, Venn, and Madan, and, at its close, Whitefield delivered a short exhortation. On Thursday, March 1, the Rev. Thomas Jones preached, and Romaine prayed. On Friday, the 2nd, Charles Wesley gave an address, and Whitefield, Romaine, Downing, and Venn prayed.

These remarkable meetings seem to have been concluded on Tuesday, March 6, when, besides the clergymen already mentioned, there was another present, who afterwards attained a distinguished eminence――John Fletcher, the immortal Vicar of Madeley. First of all, the sacrament was administered by Whitefield. Among the communicants were the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, the Countess of Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Sir Charles Hotham, Mrs. Carteret, Mrs. Cavendish, Sir Sidney Halford Smythe, Mr. Thornton (of Clapham), the Rev. Messrs. Venn, Jones, Maxfield, Downing, Fletcher, and others. Whitefield addressed the communicants; “and all were touched to the heart,” said Lady Huntingdon, “and dissolved in tears.” Whitefield, Romaine, and Madan prayed. The sacramental service being ended, the Earls of Chesterfield and Holderness, and several others of distinction, were admitted. Whitefield preached, with his accustomed eloquence and energy, from “Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” The word, remarked Lady Huntingdon, “drew sighs from every heart, and tears from every eye. Mr. Fletcher concluded with a prayer, every syllable of which appeared to be uttered under the immediate teaching of the Spirit; and, he has told me since, that, he never had more intimate communion with God, or enjoyed so much of His immediate presence, as on that occasion.”[458]

Glorious men, and glorious meetings! No wonder God was present! Who can estimate the results of these godly gatherings? Fresh from such meetings, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Brighton, longing, panting, and praying for the salvation of sinners. She carried to the mansions of the nobility the influence of the services held in her London residence. She took to the houses of the poor the glad tidings of salvation. A soldier’s wife, at Brighton, manifested such anxiety, that the Countess was induced to repeat her visit. The apartment was contiguous to a public bakehouse, and the people, who came to the oven, listened, through a crack in the partition, to her ladyship’s conversations, readings, expositions, and prayers. In a little while, she had, in this humble home, a regular congregation. At first, none but females were admitted; but a blacksmith, named Joseph Wall, a man notorious for his profligacy, by some means, gained admission, was converted, and, for a period of twenty-nine years, adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour. The Countess had become a preacheress, and a successful one! In the midst of her Brighton meetings she sent for Whitefield. Whitefield went. His first sermon was preached under a tree, in a field behind the White Lion Inn. Among his hearers was a youth, eighteen years of age, Thomas ♦Tupper, ready to stone the preacher, but who was so affected by Whitefield’s cry of “Turn ye! turn ye!” that he was converted, and became the predecessor of the well-known William Jay of Bath. Another convert, gained on the spot, was Edward Gadsby, who, for more than a quarter of a century afterwards, “walked in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.” After this, conversions were multiplied; and the Countess built a small, but neat meeting-house, on the site of the present one in North Street, the expense of which she, either wholly, or in part, defrayed by the sale of her jewels. In 1761, the chapel was opened by Martin Madan; and, in succession, Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, severally took charge of the congregation.[459]

As usual, Whitefield was greatly encouraged by the prosperity of the work of God in London. In a letter to his housekeeper at Bethesda, dated “March 26, 1759,” he wrote, “We live in a changing world, but Bethesda’s God liveth for ever and ever. His word runs and is glorified daily, especially at Tottenham Court. Strange! that nobody will relieve me, that I may once more flee to America. But, heavenly Father, our times are in Thine hands: do with us as seemeth good in Thy sight!”

Before leaving London for his “spring campaign,” Whitefield issued a small publication with the following title: “A Sermon on Christ Crucified. Preached at Paul’s Cross, the Friday before Easter. By John Foxe, the Martyrologist. With a recommendatory preface by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. London, 1759.”

Nothing need be said of John Foxe’s sermon, but Whitefield’s preface is too good to be omitted.

“To all who attend on the word, preached at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields, and at Tottenham Court chapel.

“MY DEAR HEARERS,――The ensuing discourse was lately put into my hands. The title-page informs you when, where, and by whom it was delivered――namely, near two hundred years ago, in the open air, from a pulpit made in the shape of a cross in Cheapside, commonly called Paul’s Cross, and by that venerable man of God, Mr. John Foxe, Prebend of St. Paul’s, whose Book of Martyrs was, by order of the government in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, fixed in all churches, and remains in many to this day. Though some of the expressions in this sermon may seem to be obsolete, and others want a little explication, I choose to publish it in its native dress, not only on account of its being designed for the instruction and comfort of heavy-laden souls, who are too deeply impressed to mind the elegancy and correctness of the words and phrases, but also chiefly that you might have a specimen of that foolishness of preaching, which, in the days of our forefathers, was so mighty through God to the pulling down of the outward strongholds of popery in these kingdoms; and what was infinitely more (though less discernible by the natural man), the mightier inward strongholds of sin and corruption, in the hearts of both Papists and Protestants.

“And would to God, that not only all the ministers of our Established Church, but of all the Protestant Reformed Churches, were not only almost, but altogether, such preachers! How would their hearers’ hearts then burn within them, whilst they were opening to them, from the Scriptures, man’s original apostacy from God,――the only means of reconciliation through faith in the blood of Christ,――a universal morality, as the sole fruit and proof of such a faith,――an establishment and growth in grace here,――and, as the blessed and certain consequences of all these, a perfect consummation of bliss, both of body and soul, in the full and eternal enjoyment of a Triune God in the kingdom of heaven hereafter. These are the grand truths delivered in the following sermon.

“My chief reason for dedicating it to you is to let you see that the doctrines you daily hear are no new doctrines, but the very same which were preached two hundred years ago, and that in the streets too, by the excellent compilers of the Liturgy and Articles, and who had the honour of being banished and burned, in the bloody reign of Queen Mary, for adhering to the same. And, if it should ever happen in our times, that any of their true-born faithful sons and successors should be excluded pulpits, denied licenses, or put into spiritual courts for preaching in the same manner, let them remember, that we live under a reign, when, though pulpits are shut, the highways and hedges lie open. Paul’s Cross, as I am informed, was burnt down at the Fire of London; but Christ crucified, whom Paul preached, may yet be exalted in the streets and lanes of the city. Our Lord has given us a universal commission: ‘Go ye, and preach the gospel to every creature.’ When thrust out of the synagogues, a mountain, a ship were his pulpit, and the heavens were his sounding-board. Thus Latimer, Cranmer, Ridley, and Mr. John Foxe, the famous martyrologist, preached. And who needs be ashamed of copying after such unexceptionable examples? But I am detaining you too long. Haste, and read; and if, in reading, you feel what I did, you will be glad of this sermon.

“I am, my dear hearers, your affectionate friend and ready servant, in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“London, May 4, 1759.”

A few days after the date of this Protestant preface, Whitefield left London on another of his gospel tours. Hence the following:――

“BRISTOL, May 25, 1759.

“This day se’nnight, I came hither. The next day, the spring campaign was opened. On the Lord’s-day, we took the field. Thousands and thousands attended: full as many as in London. The power of the Lord was present at the three meetings, as well as at the holy sacrament. Ever since, I have been enabled to preach twice, and sometimes thrice a day. Never did I see the Bristol people more attentive or impressed. My body feels the heat, but no matter. If souls are benefited, all is well.”

Leaving Bristol, Whitefield made his way to Scotland, arriving at Edinburgh on Saturday, the 30th of June.[460] Three days afterwards, he wrote as follows:――

“Edinburgh, July 3, 1759. There has been a long interval between my last and this. My quick motions and frequent preaching have been the causes. O what am I that I should be employed for Jesus! In Gloucestershire, the cup of many of His people ran over. In Yorkshire, I preached for a week twice a day. Great congregations! great power! Blessed be the name of the Great God for ever and ever! Here, also, people, high and low, rich and poor, flock as usual, morning and evening. I am growing fat; but, as I take it to be a disease, I hope I shall go home the sooner. Happy they who are safe in harbour.”

Whitefield spent nearly seven weeks in Scotland, a fortnight in Glasgow, and the remainder of the time in Edinburgh. Of course, his cathedral in the latter city was the Orphan Hospital Park, as usual, where he preached every morning and evening without exception. He did the same in Glasgow, only on the two Sundays that he was there, he preached ten times! He set out for London on Tuesday, August 14;[461] but, before following him, further extracts from his letters must be given. To the Rev. John Gillies, he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, July 7, 1759. I purpose to see Glasgow; but cannot as yet fix the day. I preach, and people flock as usual; but Scotland is not London. The Redeemer is doing wonders there. Every post brings fresh good news. God’s Spirit blows when and where it listeth. O for a gale before the storm! I expect one is at hand. The refuge is as near. Jesus is our hiding-place. O for a hiding-place in heaven! When will my turn come? Some say, not yet; for I am growing fat. So did Mr. ♦Darracott a little before he died.”

Whitefield’s obesity was one of his troubles. He disliked it; for it was cumbersome, and made his work more difficult. It was not the result of less labour, or of more physical indulgence. Disease had already seized the strong, active man, and, as Whitefield judged, this was one of its early symptoms. It helped, however, to cure him of a fault. “My friend Mr. Whitefield,” says Romaine, “one day told me, that there was a time in his life when he thought he had never well closed a sermon without a lash at the fat, downy doctors of the Establishment. ‘At that period,’ said he, ‘I was not lean myself, though much slenderer than since. I went on, however, and seldom failed to touch pretty smartly upon the objects of my dissatisfaction, till one day, on entering the pulpit at Tottenham Court Road, I found the door apparently narrowed, and moved in obliquely. The idea then struck me, that I was becoming, at least in appearance, a downy doctor myself; and, from that time, I never more made the downy doctors a subject of castigation.’”[462]

“Edinburgh, July 12, 1759. It is well that there is a heaven to make amends for our disappointments on earth. It is a dead time in Scotland. There is little or no stirring among the dry bones. It is not so in London, and several other parts of England. On Monday, God willing, I go to blow the gospel trumpet at Glasgow. Lord, what am I, that I should be one of Thy run-abouts! If this be to be vile, Lord, make me more vile.”

“Glasgow, July 18, 1759. I see the disease, but know not how to come at a cure. I dread a corpulent body; but it breaks in upon me like an armed man. O that my heart may not wax gross at the same time! Congregations in Scotland are very large.”

During his present visit to Scotland, Whitefield preached nearly a hundred times, to ever-increasing congregations. His collections, for the Orphan Hospital, amounted to £215. In most of his sermons, he stirred up the zeal of the people for God, for King George II., and for their country. His last service, on Sunday evening, August 12, was a thanksgiving sermon for the victory of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick over the French, at Minden, on July 31. Another fact also must be mentioned. Miss Henderson, a young lady of considerable fortune, offered him a gift of £700, which he courteously refused. She then proposed to give it to his Orphan House; but, for some reason, this offer also was declined.[463] This was the mercenary man, who, according to his enemies, was always endeavouring to amass a fortune for himself!

At the end of August, Whitefield was once more in London, and, a fortnight afterwards, wrote the following concerning his Orphan House:――

“London, September 13, 1759. Your letter, dated May 25, which I received yesterday, gave me unspeakable satisfaction. God be praised for your success in silk-worms! God be praised that Bethesda is out of debt! God be praised for all His tender mercies to me and mine! Praise the Lord, O our souls! I wish some of the children could be bred up for the ministry. What a pity that I cannot have a grammar school! I shall think and pray, and then write to you on this head. It is a most discouraging thing, that good places cannot be found for the boys when fit to go out. By this means, they are kept in the house beyond their time, both to their own hurt, and to the further expense of the institution. Could you let me know what stock of cattle you have, and what hogs you kill? The more particular you are about everything, the better. I long for the account. I am glad you received the books. More are to be sent from Scotland. I do not much care for R――――’s being at Bethesda, unless he is a true penitent. How does my nephew go on?”

It is a remarkable fact, that hardly anything is known of Whitefield’s public ministry for the next five months. During this interval, however, he is not entirely shrouded from the public eye.

Nearly sixty years ago, had died the Rev. Samuel Clarke, M.A., one of the noble brotherhood of Christian clergymen, ejected from their pulpits by the Act of Uniformity in 1662. His father was one of the best oriental scholars of the age; and father and son combined quitted livings worth £600 a year. The son settled at High Wycombe,――“a man of considerable learning; a good critic, especially in the Scriptures; a great textuary; an excellent preacher; a great enemy of superstition and bigotry; yet zealous for unaffected piety and extensive charity.”[464] He was the author of several works, but his principal publication was “Annotations on the Bible,”――a work designed at the Oxford University, and the labour of his life. A new edition of this valuable, but almost unknown, Commentary, was published in 1759; and, for the new edition, Whitefield wrote a recommendatory preface, which is dated “London, October 1, 1759.” No useful end would be answered by the insertion of Whitefield’s preface. A brief extract from it must suffice:――

“In my poor opinion, next to holy Mr. Matthew Henry’s incomparable Comment upon the Bible, the Rev. Samuel Clarke’s Annotations seem to be the best calculated for universal edification. Though short, they contain, generally speaking, a full and spiritual interpretation of the most difficult words and phrases. A great many parallel scriptures are most judiciously inserted. And an analysis of the contents of every book and chapter is added. It may be, that, the curious and very critical reader may meet with a few exceptionable expressions; but, alas! if we forbear reading any book or comment, till we meet with one that will suit every taste, and is liable to no exception, I fear, we must never read at all. The best of men’s books, as well as the best of men themselves, are but men and the books of men, at the best. It is the peculiar property of Thy life, and of Thy Book, O blessed Jesus! to be exempt from all imperfections.”

News having arrived of Boscawen’s capture of the Toulon fleet off Cape Lagos, in Portugal; and of the victory on the heights of Abraham, and the surrender of Quebec, Whitefield, too impulsive to wait for royal proclamations, preached three thanksgiving sermons, on Friday, October 19. This, forsooth! gave great offence to the notorious anti-Methodist, Dr. Free, who wrote:――

“From Mr. Whitefield’s great booth, we had a pompous article in St. James’s Evening Post, of October 20, 1759, stating that, the day before, ‘the Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached three thanksgiving sermons, two in the morning at the Tabernacle, and one at his chapel at Tottenham Court, to numerous audiences of persons of distinction.’ By which, it appears, that, being without law, he did not think it decency to wait till his Majesty appointed the day of thanksgiving; but pert,――forward,――an enthusiast,――he sounds his own trumpet, sets up his own standard, and is attended in his irregularities by numerous persons of distinction.”[465]

Dr. Free was not the only clergyman who pleased himself by attacking Whitefield. The Rev. Mr. Downes, rector of St. Michael’s, Wood Street, and lecturer of St. Mary-le-Bow, published his “Methodism Examined and Exposed” (8vo. 106 pp.), in which Whitefield and Wesley were abused with a vehemence unbefitting a Christian minister.[466]

Towards the end of the year, Whitefield stirred a nest of hornets. He preached a sermon against attending theatres. This evoked a sixpenny pamphlet, with the title, “A Discourse concerning Plays and Players. Occasioned by a late and very extraordinary Sermon, in which some sentiments relative to the above subjects were delivered in a very copious and affecting manner, from the Pulpit of a certain popular Preacher of the Society called Methodists.” The writer of the pamphlet professed to be a Methodist himself. As such, he had long entertained an “ignorant” zeal against theatres; but he had recently been cured of his “blind prejudice,” by conversing with a comedian, and by seeing Garrick act. In consequence of this conversion, he had been much offended by the sermon in question, because it threatened attenders at theatres with damnation. Whitefield’s sermon brought upon him other attacks, besides this of a professed Methodist; but it must suffice at present to insert an extract from the Monthly Review, for November, 1759, in which the “Discourse” of the theatre-going Methodist is noticed:――

“We hope the pious orator, Mr. Whitefield, made some reserve in favour of those who frequent the theatres in the neighbourhood of Moorfields, Tottenham Court, Cow Cross, and Broad St. Giles. But, after all, it were no wonder, that a Whitefield, or a Wesley should be jealous of so powerful a rival as a Garrick; or even a Woodward, a Shuter, or a Yates. However, it must be allowed uncharitable in any performers, or managers, thus to consign each other’s audiences to the devil. We hope our good friends of Drury Lane and Covent Garden have never been chargeable with such unfair and unchristian dealings. Emulation is certainly commendable, while accompanied with honesty and decency; and if we can improve and extend our traffic by furnishing a better commodity than another can, why, it is all fair; but neither decency nor honesty will allow us to break the windows, or to abuse or frighten away the customers, of our rivals in trade.”

These were the first mutterings of one of the most violent storms that ever burst upon the head of Whitefield; but more of this anon.

Whitefield began the year 1760 by enlarging the Tottenham Court chapel, opened only three years before. He wrote to a friend in America:――

“London, February 5, 1760. I am growing very corpulent, but, I trust, not too corpulent for another voyage, when called to it. Every day the work increases. On Sunday last, a new enlargement of the chapel was opened, and a great concourse of people assembled.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield published a 12mo. pamphlet of twenty-four pages, entitled “Russian Cruelty; being the substance of several Letters from sundry Clergymen, in the New Marche of Brandenburg.” The letters are full of horrible details respecting the cruelties practised by the Russian army in Germany; and, in his preface, Whitefield ardently asks for sympathy and help on behalf of the distressed Protestants in that country. The preface is dated “March 2, 1760.” Friday, March 14, was appointed to be observed by a general fast; and, on the Sunday previous, says Lloyd’s Evening Post, “the Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached at his Tabernacle, at Tottenham Court Road, to a very numerous audience. In his discourse, he took occasion to mention the cruelties exercised by the Russian Cossacks upon the Protestant subjects of the Duchy of Mecklenburg, and earnestly to recommend a collection for their relief on the day of the public fast. The money is to be paid into the hands of the minister of the Lutheran chapel in London, by him to be transmitted to Germany, and there to be distributed in a proper manner to the objects worthy of relief.” Remembering the worth of money a hundred years ago, Whitefield’s collections were enormous. The following is taken from Lloyd’s Evening Post, of March 17, 1760:――

“On the Fast-day, upwards of £400 were collected at Mr. Whitefield’s chapel in Tottenham Court Road, and at the Tabernacle, in Moorfields, for the relief of the distressed Protestants in and about Custrin, in the New Marche of Brandenburg; many of whom have been not only plundered and stripped of all they had, but have likewise been cruelly tortured and abused by the savage Cossacks and other irregular troops of the Russian army.”[467]

It is a strange and disgraceful coincidence, that, on the very Fast-day, when Whitefield was so nobly exerting himself to redress the Russian cruelties in Germany, one of Whitefield’s friends, within a dozen miles of London, was being treated with cruelty dishonourable to the character of old England. Hence the following taken from Lloyd’s Evening Post, of March 21, 1760:――

“Last Friday (the Fast-day) a terrible riot happened at Kingston, in Surrey, occasioned by a Methodist preacher, who came there, and assembled a great number of people together in a barn to hear him. Whilst he was preaching, an impudent fellow threw some dirt at him, which created a great disturbance; and the mob, at last, dragged the preacher into the street, and rolled him in a ditch; and, had it not been for the humanity and good-nature of a gentleman near the spot, who took him into his house, he, in all likelihood, would have been murdered. Some of the Inniskilling dragoons being there among the mob, with their swords, wounded and bruised several of the people, and put the whole town into an uproar; but, by the prudent behaviour of their commanding officer, all ill consequences were prevented. He ordered the drums to beat, assembled the dragoons in the yard of the Sun Inn, and kept them there for some time, and then ordered them to their quarters.”

One of the notable events of 1760 was the trial and the execution of the half mad and intensely wicked Earl Ferrers, for the brutal murder of Mr. Johnson, his steward. The notorious Earl being nearly related to the Countess of Huntingdon, she and all her Methodist friends felt a profoundly painful interest in the case. The trial, which lasted three days, commenced in Westminster Hall, on April 16. Charles Wesley writes:――

“April 17, 1760. Yesterday morning, my heart was overwhelmed with sorrow. Not in my own will did I enter the place of judgment. George Whitefield and his wife sat next me. The lords entered with the utmost state: first the barons, then the lords, bishops, earls, dukes, and Lord High Steward. Most of the royal family, the peeresses, and chief gentry of the kingdom, and the foreign ambassadors were present, and made it one of the most august assemblies in Europe; but the pomp was quite lost upon me.”[468]

After his condemnation, the Earl was often visited, in the Tower of London, by the Countess of Huntingdon, and twice by Whitefield, to whom he behaved with great politeness. At her ladyship’s request, Whitefield repeatedly offered up public prayer for the unhappy murderer. “That impertinent fellow,” said Horace Walpole, “told his enthusiasts that my lord’s heart was stone.” So it was. Earl Ferrers ended his ignoble life, on the scaffold, May 5, 1760. “With all his madness,” sneered the flippant writer just mentioned, “Lord Ferrers was not mad enough to be struck with Lady Huntingdon’s sermons. The Methodists have nothing to brag of his conversion, though Whitefield prayed for him, and preached about him.”[469]

At the period when Whitefield was visiting Earl Ferrers in the Tower, there was another convict, belonging to another class of society, who secured his pity and attentions. Robert Tilling, coachman to Mr. Lloyd, a merchant living in Devonshire Square, Bishopsgate Street, had presented himself at the bedside of his master, at four o’clock in the morning of February 19; pointed a pistol at his head; demanded the keys of his escritoir; and threatened to blow out his brains, unless the demand was granted. The keys were given up; the merchant was robbed of his money; the coachman was arrested; was tried at the Old Bailey; confessed his crime; was sentenced to be hanged; and, in company with three others, was executed, at Tyburn, on Monday, April 28. The body was conveyed to Whitefield’s Tabernacle in Moorfields, where, horresco referens! it was exposed to the public view. On April 30, it was carried to Tindall’s burying ground in Bunhill Fields. The rest of the story may be told by an extract from Lloyd’s Evening Post, of the 5th of May:――

“We are informed that there was a prodigious concourse of people to hear Mr. Whitefield speak in Bunhill Fields, at the grave of Robert Tilling; some think not less than twenty thousand. There was no burial office read; but, after the corpse had been laid in the ground some time, Mr. Whitefield came, and, in a declamatory way, shewed how the wages of sin was death,――gave some account of the malefactor’s penitence,――exhorted all in general to turn from their vices and come to Christ,――and pressed all servants in particular to take warning by the criminal’s execution, and shew all fidelity to their masters.”

Having “spent all the last winter in London,” Whitefield set out, in the month of May, on another of his evangelistic tours. First of all, he went to Gloucestershire; in June he went to Wales; in July, to Bristol; and in August came back to London. In September and October, he had “a ramble of two months in Yorkshire;”[470] after which, as usual, he returned to his “winter quarters,” in the metropolis.[471] Hardly anything is known of these preaching journeys. The following are extracts from his letters:――

“Bristol, July 5, 1760. When in the fields, ten thousand, perhaps more, assemble here. When under cover, there are more than the Tabernacle will hold; at least, in the evening. Every time, the house is a Bethel, a house of God, a gate of heaven. I thought my wife’s illness would have hastened me to London; but, as she is now recovering, I would fain proceed in my summer’s campaign. I am persuaded I am the better for your prayers. Never were they more charitably bestowed. I am a worm, and no man. O blessed Jesus, how good Thou art! With all Thy other mercies, give, O give me an humble and a thankful heart!”

“Bristol, July 8, 1760. I have sympathised with you, in respect to your fears about the Indian war. Lord Jesus, grant the Indians may not come near Bethesda! In heaven, all alarms will be over. I long for those blessed mansions. But nothing kills me. My wife was lately just got into harbour, but is driven back again. Blessed be God, we are sure of getting in at last. Jesus is our pilot. I am going on in my old way, saving that I grow fatter and fatter every day. Lord, help me to work it down! But it seems working will not do it.”

“London, August 15, 1760. How do I long to hear of God’s appearing for Georgia and Bethesda! I trust the Indians will not be permitted to disturb a family planted by God’s own right hand, and for His own glory. But the Divine judgments are a great deep. I trust some Bethesda letters will soon put me out of suspense. I wrote to you by the convoy that took your new governor. I hope he will behave friendly to the Orphan House. If we make the Lord Jesus our friend, all will be well. Many here are seeking His friendship. Satan is angry. I am now mimicked and burlesqued upon the public stage. All hail such contempt! God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Jesus Christ! It is sweet! It is sweet! What a mercy is it, that we have got an abiding inheritance in the kingdom of heaven! Of this we can never be robbed. Hallelujah!”

It is a remarkable fact, that, though the burlesquing of Whitefield, in 1760, was a most disgraceful, and almost unparalleled outrage against all propriety, the above and another introduced hereafter are the only instances, in Whitefield’s published letters, where he mentions it. The subject is disgusting; but it must be noticed.

Samuel Foote was born at Truro, in Cornwall. His father was member of Parliament for Tiverton. Young Foote was educated at Worcester College, Oxford. On leaving the University, he became student of law in the Temple. He married a young lady of a good family and some fortune; but, their tempers not agreeing, harmony did not long subsist between them. Foote now launched into all the fashionable follies of the age, gambling not excepted; and, in a few years, squandered all his money. His necessities led him to the stage. In 1747, when about twenty-six years of age, he opened the little theatre in the Haymarket, taking upon himself the double character of author and performer. His first dramatic piece was called “The Diversions of the Morning,” and was chiefly a description of several well-known living persons. For years after, Foote continued to select, for the entertainment of the town, such public characters as seemed most likely to amuse the attendants at his theatre. In 1760, he published and performed “The Minor,” a filthy and profane burlesque of Whitefield and his followers. Six years afterwards, he broke his leg, and was compelled to undergo an amputation. His last piece was brought out in 1776, and was called “The Trip to Paris.” In this, he made a pointed attack on the character of the Duchess of Kingston. The Lord Chamberlain interdicted the performance. Foote made some alterations in the play, and brought it out under the title of “The Capuchin.” In this, he levelled his satire, not only against the Duchess, but against her bosom friend, Dr. Jackson, the editor of a newspaper. Foote grew in wickedness, as he grew in years. He was charged with an unnatural crime, but was acquitted. The man, however, who had been stigmatizing public and living persons, for the last thirty years, was annoyed at being stigmatized himself. His spirits sank; his health failed; and, while on the stage, he was seized with paralysis. Soon afterwards, he set out for France; but died suddenly, at Dover, on October 21, 1777. He was privately interred in Westminster Abbey.[472] “Foote,” said Boswell to Johnson, both of whom were well acquainted with the zany, “Foote has a great deal of humour.” Johnson: “Yes, sir.” Boswell: “He has a singular talent for exhibiting character.” Johnson: “Sir, it is not a talent――it is a vice: it is what others abstain from. It is not comedy, which exhibits the character of a species, as that of a miser gathered from many misers: it is a farce, which exhibits individuals.” Boswell: “Pray, sir, is not Foote an infidel?” Johnson: “I do not know, sir, that the fellow is an infidel: but if he be an infidel, he is an infidel as a dog is an infidel; that is to say, he has never thought upon the subject.”[473]

This profane and filthy-minded comedian was the author of the infamous production, which brought upon Whitefield an unequalled torrent of abuse and ridicule. Its title was, “The Minor, a Comedy, written by Mr. Foote. As it is now acting at the New Theatre in the Hay-Market. By authority from the Lord Chamberlain.[474] Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum. London, 1760.” (8vo. 91 pp.)

“The Minor” was first acted early in July, 1760.[475] It would be far worse than offensive to give an outline of it in a work like this. How educated and respectable people could listen to such ribald and blasphemous outpourings it is difficult to imagine. The whole thing is so steeped in lewdness, that it would be criminal even to reproduce the plot. Suffice it to say, that Foote was not only the author of the piece, but its chief actor. He performed the three characters, “Shift,” “Smirk,” and “Mrs. Cole.” He declaimed against “the Itinerant Field Orators, who are at declared enmity with common sense, and yet have the address to poison the principles, and, at the same time, to pick the pockets of half our industrious fellow-subjects.” He lays it down, that, “ridicule is the only antidote against this pernicious poison. Methodism is a madness that arguments can never cure; and, should a little wholesome severity be applied, persecution would be the immediate cry. Where then can we have recourse but to the comic muse? Perhaps the archness and severity of her smile may redress an evil, that the laws cannot reach, or reason reclaim.” Such, forsooth, were the virtuous motives which prompted Foote, in the profanest language, and in the character of a bawd, to ridicule the greatest evangelist of his age, and one whom all men now delight to honour. In a literary point of view, “The Minor” is despicable; in a moral, it is unquotable.

The Countess of Huntingdon waited on the Duke of Devonshire, the Lord Chamberlain, and requested its suppression; but was told her request could not be granted. She had an interview with Garrick, who professed to be offended with the comedy;[476] and yet, shortly after, admitted it into his own theatre in Drury Lane.

In the very month when it first appeared, even the Monthly Review, no friend to the Methodists, condemned it. Hence the following:――

“The spirit of puffing, which so strongly characterizes the present age, is become so universal, that almost every class seems to be moved by it. In time past, it was chiefly confined to quack doctors, booksellers, and advertising tailors; but now even the wits of the town are seized by it, and every farce-writer ostentatiously styles his petit piece of three acts, a comedy. This of Mr. Foote’s is one of the number; but it no more deserves the title of a comedy than ‘The Stage Coach,’ ‘The Devil to Pay,’ or any of those inferior dramatic productions, which usually appear as the humble attendants upon works of the higher order――the tragedies and comedies of five acts.

“The success of the present performance, during the representation, arose from the author’s extraordinary talent at mimicry; but it is not calculated to please equally in the perusal. The satire levelled at the great leader of the Methodists seems to be extremely out of character. It is no less unjust to Mr. Whitefield, than absurd, to suppose a man of his penetration, either conniving at, or being the dupe of, an old bawd’s hypocrisy, in continuing to follow her iniquitous occupation, while she frequents the Tabernacle, and cants about the new birth. And when we are told that an occasional hymn is given out, and a thanksgiving sermon preached, on occasion of Mother Cole’s (Douglas’s) recovery from sickness, who can forbear smiling――not with approbation of the conceit, but, with contempt for the author of such improbable scandal? We despise and abhor all enthusiastic flights, and high pretentions to extraordinary sanctity, as much as Mr. Foote can do; but, without entering into the enquiry whether or not these are proper objects of playhouse ridicule, it is most certain, that no man, or body of men, ought to be charged with more than they are guilty of; and that there is not a juster maxim in the moral world, than, ‘Give the devil his due[477].’”

In the month of August,[478] 1760, there appeared a pamphlet with the title, “Christian and Critical Remarks on a Droll, or Interlude, called ‘The Minor,’ now acting by a Company of Stage-Players in the Hay-Market, and said to be acted by Authority; in which the Blasphemy, Falsehood, and Scurrility of that Piece are properly considered, answered, and exposed. By a Minister of the Church of Christ. London, 1760.” (8vo. 41 pp.) The writer says Foote “has gone beyond any of his competitors in debauching, if possible, and debasing the stage. He has done this, by doing that which nobody else in these kingdoms had the confidence to attempt; I mean by the introduction of real and living characters into his pieces.” And then, it is correctly added, “The name of the Spirit of God is bandied about from the mouth of vagabond to vagabond, in order to raise a laugh in honour of the devil.”

A month later, was published a 4to. shilling pamphlet, entitled, “A Satyrical Dialogue between the celebrated Mr. F――te and Dr. Squintum,” which the Monthly Review pronounced, “Dirty trash: intended to vilify Mr. Whitefield.” Also, a folio publication (price 1s.), with the title, “A Letter of Expostulation from the Manager of the Theatre in Tottenham Court, to the Manager of the Theatre in the Hay-Market, relative to a new Comedy, called ‘The Minor.’” In this infamous and lewd production, Whitefield is represented as being jealous of Foote in gulling the public, and, therefore, proposes that they become partners. Much of it cannot be quoted. The following are among the less objectionable lines. Addressing Foote, Whitefield, at the Tabernacle, is made to say:――

“Your talent of humour shall have its full swing, Here pleasure and profit are both on the wing: Love-feasts――and ladies intriguing――and cash―― Keep on but the vizor,――have at ’em slap-dash―― No bait shall be wanting the trade to advance, We’ll now and then tip ’em a drum and a dance.”

In the month of October, the storm was continued, and, if possible, became more furious. A long letter was inserted in Lloyd’s Evening Post, in which, after praising Foote for his mimicry in “The Minor,” the writer adds: “Religion is too sacred (be it exercised in ever so absurd a manner) to become the butt of public mockery. If the exercise of it should be unwarrantable, the laws will check it, without calling theatrical buffoonery to their assistance.”

Three months before, as soon as “The Minor” appeared, there was published, a shilling pamphlet, with the false title: “A Genuine Letter from a Methodist Preacher in the Country, to Laurence Sterne, M.A., Prebendary of York.” Now, in the month of October, the same “nonsensical and profane” thing was re-issued with an altered title: “A Letter from the Rev. George Whitefield, B.A., to the Rev. Laurence Sterne, M.A., the supposed Author of ‘The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.’” Even the Monthly Review now became indignant, and said, “The impudence of our low dirty, hedge-publishers is risen to a most shameful height. To take such scandalous liberties with names, as is here done with that of Mr. Whitefield, is surely insufferable in any well-regulated community. If it is not in that gentleman’s power to procure redress of such a flagrant injury, it is high time to provide the means of punishing such audacious proceedings for the future.”

The volatile Foote also added to his previous crime, the publication of an 8vo. pamphlet, of 40 pages, entitled, “A Letter from Mr. Foote to the Reverend Author of the Remarks, Critical and Christian, on ‘The Minor.’” The mendacious reviler writes:――

“I am extremely puzzled in what manner to address you; it being impossible to determine, from the title you assume, whether you are an authorised pastor, or a peruke-maker,――a real clergyman, or a corn-cutter.”

Again:――

“I have heard George Whitefield’s mother frequently declare that he was a dull, stupid, heavy boy, totally incapable of their business at the ‘Bell,’ a principal inn at Gloucester.

“The force and miserable effects of Whitefield’s mystic doctrines are obvious enough. Bedlam loudly proclaims the power of your preacher, and scarce a street in town but boasts its tabernacle; where some, from interested views, and others――unhappy creatures! mistaking the idle offspring of a distempered brain for divine inspiration, broach such doctrines as are not only repugnant to Christianity, but destructive even to civil society.

“I believe Whitefield is too cunning to let anybody into the secret as to the quantity of wealth he has amassed; but, from your own computation of males fit to carry arms, who are listed in his service, and the price they are well known to pay for admittance, even into the gallery of his theatre, I should suppose his annual income must double the primate’s. To this may be added private benefactions and occasional contributions.”

One more specimen of Foote’s audacious scurrility must suffice. He concludes his pamphlet thus:――

“You a reformer! Are these the proofs of your mission? Repent, and, by way of atonement and mortification, summon your misguided flock; reveal your impious frauds, and restore the poor deluded people to their senses and their proper pastors. If you still persist, I must, after your example, conclude with wishing that those teachers amongst you, who are mad, were confined closely in Bedlam, and those who are wicked, were lodged safely in Bridewell; and then, I think the public would get rid of you all. But, whilst you continue triumphantly at large, spiritualized and divine as you may think yourselves, I shall still take the liberty to follow you, as the boy did Philip, with a loud memento that you are merely men.”

The reader must pardon these long extracts from such a writer; for, without them, it is difficult to convey an adequate idea of what a sensitive man like Whitefield must have suffered from the publication of such falsehoods and abuse. Unfortunately more must follow.

In the month of November, Garrick permitted “The Minor” to be acted in Drury Lane Theatre, but with some insignificant alterations, the chief of which was, in lieu of a filthy and profane sentence, which cannot be quoted, Mrs. Cole, the bawd, was represented as saying, “Dr. Squintum washed me with the soap-suds and scouring sand of the Tabernacle, and I became as clean and bright as a pewter-platter.”[479] The theatre was crowded, and thus even Garrick, as well as Foote, began to make money by holding up Whitefield to the ridicule of the large and fashionable assemblies of the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. It was now that one of the personal friends of Whitefield stepped into the lists. The Rev. Martin Madan[480] published an 8vo. pamphlet of 48 pages, entitled, “A Letter to David Garrick, Esq.; occasioned by the intended Representation of ‘The Minor’ at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane.” In an advertisement, Mr. Madan states that the first performance of ‘The Minor’ in Drury-Lane had been fixed for October 25, but the sudden death of King George the Second, on the morning of that day, occasioned a short postponement. Madan refrains from discussing “the absolute unlawfulness of stage entertainments,” because that point had been “ably and unanswerably proved by the masterly pen of the Rev. Mr. William Law.” He says, “Mr. Whitefield knows nothing of the writing of this letter;[481] and I will not say one word in behalf of him. I shall put him as much out of the case as if there was no such man breathing. I profess no attempt to defend anything but the truths of the Bible, and consequently the religion of this country, as by law established.” Madan declares that, instead of “The Minor” being styled a comedy, it deserved the name of “A Dramatic Libel against the Christian Religion;” and, by quotations, proceeds to state his reasons, for this assertion, adding:――

“Does Mr. Garrick think such language as this is fit for the entertainment of polite ears? Would any one imagine that these speeches, if weighed one moment in the balance of reason (to say nothing of religion), could possibly be introduced, with the least degree of approbation, before any audience, except the inhabitants of Bridewell or Newgate? I blush for my countrymen, when I recollect, that even this vile stuff was attended to in the Hay-Market, by crowded audiences, for above thirty nights, and that with applause; whereas it was dismissed, with deserved abhorrence, after being one night only offered to the people of Ireland, at one of their theatres. This I have been credibly informed of, and believe it to be true.”

After furnishing other quotations from “The Minor,” Madan again addresses Garrick thus:――

“Now, sir, give me leave to appeal to your own good sense and judgment, whether, upon the foregoing view of ‘The Minor,’ you think it a proper entertainment for his Majesty’s comedians to exhibit, or his Majesty’s subjects to attend to; whether you think there is such a veneration for our holy religion among the people, as to need any retrenchment; and whether making the language of the Scriptures and the doctrines of the gospel ridiculous, can be likely to answer any other end, than increasing the daily growth of impiety and infidelity amongst people of all degrees?”

“As to Mr. Foote, I would charitably think, that all the knowledge he has of the several expressions and doctrines he has ridiculed, is, in consequence of his attendance upon the preaching of Mr. Squintum, in order to laugh at him. Hence he thought (as he had not been used to such language) that they were the vapours of a distempered brain, and treated them accordingly; so that, like Solomon’s madman, he has been casting about firebrands, arrows, and death, and saying, ‘Am I not in sport?’ I hope, however, Mr. Foote will endeavour to inform himself better, and then make what amends he can to the public, for having been the promoter of an open attack upon the truths and language of the sacred volume, by the mouths of the most profligate and wicked of the people; for we can hardly walk the streets, but we hear ballads, in which the very words of our blessed Saviour are blasphemed, and treated as the rare doctrine of Dr. Squintum.”

It is hoped that quotations like these will justify the treating of this subject at so great a length. To say nothing of Foote, and his lewd audiences in the little theatre in the Haymarket, it was a serious, almost a national, crime and evil when such profanity and pollution were introduced into His Majesty’s Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane; and when, prompted by such a high example, Grub Street began to supply ballads, of the same horrible description as the farce of Foote, to the boys and girls, the drunkards and profligates, of England’s great metropolis.[482]

Besides Mr. Madan’s pamphlet, another was published, in Whitefield’s favour, in November, 1760, namely: “A Letter to Mr. Foote, occasioned by his Letter to the Reverend Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor;’ containing a Refutation of Mr. Foote’s Pamphlet, and a full Defence of the Principles and Practices of the Methodists. By the Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks.” (8vo. 28 pp.)

This was a well-written pamphlet; but another, by the same author, published in the same month, was not so prudently composed. Its title was, “An Exhortatory Address to the Brethren in the Faith of Christ. Occasioned by a Remarkable Letter from Mr. Foote to the Reverend Author of Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor.’ With a serious word or two on the present Melancholy Occasion. By a Minister of the Church of Christ.” The “serious word or two” spoilt all the rest; for the author rashly insinuated that the encouragement given to Foote was the sin which had brought upon the nation a Divine judgment, in the recent sudden death of George II. As might be expected, this gave an advantage to Foote and to his friends. On reading the pamphlet, the Monthly Review exclaimed, “O thou wrong-headed leader of the wrong-heads! Fie on thee! Fie on thee!”

On the other side, a long letter, filling nearly a page, was inserted in Lloyd’s Evening Post, of November 14. It began as follows: “We now have the pleasure of seeing Methodism ushered in in comic characters, and the ridiculous gesture of the Tabernacle Impostor mimicked in the easier attitude of the stage.” The writer proceeds to criticise what he calls Methodism’s “favourite tenet, the grace of assurance, good works being not significant;” and then wishes “we had some formal Court of Judicature, to detect the cunning cant and hypocrisy of all pretenders to sanctity and devotion, for then we should be able to guard against those who preach to us salvation with a view to make us undergo a temporal fleecing.” With a sneer, he concludes thus:――

“What a monstrous piece of inhumanity are we venerators of apostolic doctrine and episcopal dignity to these pretended saint errants and non-apostolical preachers! To complete their unhappiness, we have made them a theatrical scoff, and the common jest and scorn of every chorister in the street.”

Five days afterwards, there appeared, in the same journal, a letter by Wesley, replying to this “very angry gentleman,” whom he presumed to be “a retainer of the theatre.” This evoked a disgracefully abusive answer, on November 24, which concluded with the polite assertion, that “arguing with Methodists is like pounding fools in a mortar.” Wesley again replied, on December 3; and his opponent, angrier than ever, in a long epistle, on December 12. In one of his quiet, but caustic letters, Wesley concluded the correspondence on December 26.

During this lengthened controversy, between Wesley and his nameless adversary, two more pamphlets were given to the public. The first was entitled, “A Letter to Mr. F――te. Occasioned by the Christian and Critical Remarks on his Interlude, called ‘The Minor.’ To which is added an Appendix, relative to a Serious Address to the Methodists themselves.” (12mo. 28 pp.) The thing was full of banter and badness,――bespattering Whitefield, and extolling Foote. The second was an equally vile production: “Observations, Good or Bad, Stupid or Clever, Serious or Jocular, on Squire Foote’s Dramatic Entertainment, entitled ‘The Minor.’ By a Genius.” (12mo. 15 pp.) In the Genius’s estimation, “the fable of ‘The Minor’ is pretty and entertaining; the manners happily described; the sentiments just and natural; and the language easy and spirited!!!” The critique of the Monthly Review on this production of “a Genius” was contained in a single line: “All the humour of this lies in the title-page.”

These lengthened details may be somewhat tedious; but they show the terrible fracas in which Whitefield was involved during the year 1760. This certainly was one of the most painful years of his eventful life. The persecution also was novel. He had been abused by clergymen in England, Scotland, and America, by pamphleteers learned and illiterate, and by mobs; but now, for the first time, he was ridiculed by theatrical comedians and their friends. Other opponents had been severe; but, as a rule, they had not been ribald and profane. Now it was otherwise. The farce of Foote, and the ballads in the streets, were steeped in blasphemy and filth. And yet, with the exception already mentioned, they are never noticed in any of Whitefield’s published letters. That he suffered――keenly suffered――it is impossible to doubt; but there is no evidence that he murmured or complained. No man more fully realized the truth and meaning of the Saviour’s beatitude, “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”

“The Minor” was not the only farce published against Whitefield. At least, three other kindred productions were printed during the ensuing year. First, there was “An Additional Scene to the Comedy of ‘The Minor.’ London, 1761.” (8vo. 19 pp.) In this, Whitefield was described as “a priestly-looking man, with a cast in his eyes, and wearing a white flaxen wig,” and who, on being introduced to Foote, presented a comedy of his own composing, and requested Foote to act it. Then, there was “The Register Office: a Farce of Two Acts. Acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. By J. Reed. London, 1761.” (8vo. 47 pp.) A filthy thing, in which Whitefield is called “Mr. Watchlight,” instead of “Dr. Squintum;” and “Mrs. Snarewell” answers to “Mrs. Cole” in “The Minor” by Foote. “Lady Wrinkle” and “Mrs. Snarewell” are both dramatis personæ in the printed farce; but a foot-note states, “These two characters were not permitted to be played.” Then, finally, there was “The Methodist: a Comedy: being a Continuation and Completion of the Plan of ‘The Minor’ written by Mr. Foote: as it was intended to have been acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, but for obvious reasons suppressed. With the original Prologue and Epilogue. London, 1761.” (8vo. 60 pp.) This, if possible, was even more profane and polluted than “The Minor” itself; and, though not acted, it soon passed through three editions. “Squintum” and “Mrs. Cole” were both among the leading characters; but to quote what they are made to say would be a crime. Half a dozen lines, however, taken from the prologue, may be given:――

“No private pique this just resentment draws, Or brands a wretched Squintum, or his cause; But, since the laws no punishment provide For such as draw the multitude aside, The poet seizes the corrective rod, To scourge the bold blasphemer of his God.”

A disgusting specimen of the audacious falsehoods of the blaspheming Foote! To use one of Whitefield’s own expressions, none but a wretched being, “half a beast and half a devil,” could have written “The Minor” and “The Methodist.” The following is the Monthly Review’s critique on the latter of these infamous productions:――

“Mr. Foote’s ‘Minor’ is the foundation of this despicable superstructure, by means of which the scandalous abuse of Mr. Whitefield, under the opprobrious name of Dr. Squintum, is carried to such a height, as, in our judgment, reflects the utmost disgrace upon literature.”[483]

It is mournful to relate, that the wretched Foote hunted Whitefield, with undiminished hatred, to the end of Whitefield’s life. Two months after the great preacher’s death, in 1770, Foote was acting “The Minor” in the theatre at Edinburgh. The first night’s audience was large; but the indecency of the piece so shocked the people, that, at the following night’s performance, only ten of the female sex had effrontery sufficient to witness such profane impurity. Meanwhile, the news arrived of Whitefield’s decease, and loud was the outcry against ridiculing the man after he was dead. The Revs. Dr. Erskine, Dr. Walker, and Mr. Baine denounced Foote’s outrageous behaviour from their respective pulpits. “How base and ungrateful,” exclaimed the last-mentioned minister, “is such treatment of the dead! and that, too, so very nigh to a family of orphans, the records of whose hospital will transmit Mr. Whitefield’s name to posterity with honour, when the memory of others will rot. How illiberal such usage of one, whose seasonable good services for his king and country are well known; and whose indefatigable labours for his beloved Master were countenanced by heaven!”[484]

Here, while the buffoon, as it were, gesticulates, capers, and makes grimaces over Whitefield’s corpse, we take our leave of Foote for ever.

Before passing from the year 1760, one more publication must be mentioned. Its title was “Pious Aspirations for the use of Devout Communicants, either before, at, or after the Time of Receiving. Founded on the History of the Sufferings of Christ, as related by the Four Evangelists. Extracted from the English Edition of the three Volumes of the Rev. Mr. J. Rambach, late Professor of Divinity in the University of Giessen. By George Whitefield, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1760.” (12mo. 104 pp.) This little book is often beautiful, and always intensely earnest and devout.

The first glimpse of Whitefield, in 1761, is on February 21, when he wrote as follows:――

“London. The distance that Plymouth lies from London, is one great cause of my coming there so seldom. What can I do, who have so many calls, and so few assistants? London must be minded; for, surely, there the word runs, and is glorified more and more. I returned in post-haste, last month, from Bristol. Both in going and coming, dear Mr. H―――― and I were in great jeopardy. Once the machine fell over; and, at another time, we were obliged to leap out of the post-chaise, though going very fast. Blessed be God, we received little hurt. Good was to be done. On the Fast-day, near £600 were collected for the German and Boston sufferers. Grace! grace! I wish you had collected at Bristol. When can you move? Pray let me know directly. I want my wife to ride as far as Plymouth. Nothing but exercise will do with her.”

The general fast, here mentioned, was held on Friday, February 13. On that day, Whitefield preached early in the morning, at the Tabernacle, from Exodus xxxiv. 1, etc., and collected £112. In the forenoon, at Tottenham Court Road, he selected, as his text, “Blow the trumpet in Zion, sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly.” Here the collection was £242. In the evening, he preached again in the Tabernacle, choosing for his text, “The Lord said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation.” The third collection amounted to £210.[485] The ridicule of Foote, so far from lessening, had increased Whitefield’s popularity. On the day in question, not only did his congregations crowd the two chapels, but comprised an assemblage of the aristocracy of England rarely witnessed in a Methodist meeting-house. Among others present, there were the Countess of Huntingdon, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Fanny Shirley, Lord Halifax, Lord Holdernesse, Secretary of State; Lord Bute, who soon succeeded him in his office; the Duke of Grafton, then rising rapidly into public life; Lady Harrington; Charles Fox then a boy, but, afterwards, the celebrated statesman and orator; William Pitt, Lord Villiers, and Soame Jennys, who held office in the Board of Trade, and acquired imperishable fame by his “View of the Internal Evidences of the Christian Religion.” The collections, made on the occasion, were for a twofold purpose, partly for the benefit of the plundered Protestants in the Marche of Brandenburg, and partly to relieve the distresses of the inhabitants of Boston, in New England, where a fire had destroyed nearly four hundred dwelling-houses. No wonder that they amounted to upwards of £560.[486]

Soon after this, Whitefield received assistance in his London work, from Berridge, of Everton, late moderator of Cambridge. Hence the following extracts from his letters:――

“LONDON, February 23, 1761.

“The Redeemer’s work is upon the advance. All opposition is over-ruled for the furtherance of the gospel. A new instrument is raised up out of Cambridge University. He has been here preaching like an angel of the churches.”

Again, to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“LONDON, March 14, 1761.

“One Mr. Berridge, late moderator of Cambridge, has been preaching here with great flame. The awakening is rather greater than ever. Satan’s artillery has done but little execution.

“‘Thoughts are vain against the Lord, All subserve His standing word; Wheels encircling wheels must run, Each in course to bring it on. Hallelujah!’”

The truth is, Whitefield needed help. During his late visit to the city of Bristol, he had caught a cold, which so seriously affected his health, that, in one of the London newspapers, it was announced that he was dead.[487] His illness disabled him during the whole of the months of March and April. Hence the following, from Lloyd’s Evening Post:――

“April 13. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield is so well recovered from his late illness, that he appeared abroad on Saturday last.

“April 29. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield was so well on Sunday, as to assist in administering the sacrament of the Lord’s supper.”

The following letters were written when Whitefield was convalescent:――

“CANONBURY HOUSE, April 27, 1761.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――Accept a few lines of love unfeigned from a worthless worm, just returning ♦from the borders of the eternal world. O into what a world was I launching! But the prayers of God’s people have brought me back. Lord Jesus, let it be for Thy glory, and the welfare of precious and immortal souls! O how ought ministers to work before the night of sickness and death comes, when no man can work! You will not cease to pray for me, who am indeed less than the least of all. Weakness forbids my enlarging. Hearty love to all who are so kind as to enquire after a hell-deserving, but redeemed, creature. Not only pray, but also give thanks to the never-failing Emmanuel, who has been ease in pain, health in sickness, life in death, to yours, for His great name’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

The next was addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow.

“CANONBURY HOUSE, May 2, 1761.

“Indeed, my dear friend, the news you have heard was true. I have been at the very gates of what is commonly called death. They seemed opening to admit me, through the alone righteousness of the blessed Jesus, into everlasting life. But, at present, they are closed again. For what end, an all-wise Redeemer can only tell. I have, since my illness, once assisted a little at the Lord’s supper, and once have spoken a little in public. But my locks are cut. Natural strength fails. Jesus can renew; Jesus can cause to grow again. By His divine permission, I have thoughts of seeing Scotland. If I relapse, that will be a desirable place to go to heaven from. I love, I love the dear people of Scotland! Ten thousand thanks to you, and all my dear Glasgow friends.”

It is a disgraceful fact, that, while Whitefield was thus tottering back from the margin of the grave, the St. James’s Chronicle, of April 28, filled a column and a half of its folio sheet, with what it was pleased to call “Similes, Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” Only the last in the list shall be given.

“I will tell you the very picture of damned souls in hell. Have you never seen a potter’s oven, where he bakes his pots? Now the longer these pots bake, the harder they grow. Just so does one of these damned souls. God keep you and me, dear brethren, from ever being one of their unhappy number! (Sighing by the people.)”

For the next twelve months, Whitefield was an invalid, and, with a few exceptions, was obliged to refrain from preaching. The following extracts from his letters are painfully interesting. His health was gone, and yet, when he could, he tried to preach.

“PLYMOUTH, June 5, 1761.

“Through Divine mercy, I am somewhat improved in my health since my leaving London. At Bristol, I grew sensibly better, but hurt myself by too long journeys to Exeter and hither. However, blessed be God! I am now recovered from my fatigue, and hope bathing will brace me up for my glorious Master’s use again. The few times I have been enabled to preach, the infinitely condescending Redeemer has breathed upon the word. Who knows but I may get my wings again? Abba, Father, all things are possible with Thee!”

“BRISTOL, June 11, 1761.

“These few lines leave me rather hurt by my late western journey. I strive to put out to sea as usual, but my shattered bark will not bear it. If this air does not agree with me, I think of returning, in a few days, to my old nurses and physicians. Blessed be God for an interest in an infinitely great, infinitely gracious, and sympathising, unchangeable Physician! I hope you and yours enjoy much of His heart-cheering consolations. These have been my support in my younger days; these will be my cordials in the latter stages of the road. Jesus lives when ministers die.”

In the beginning of July, Whitefield had returned to London. Meanwhile, news had arrived of the English fleets having taken Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany, and Dominica in the West Indies. Pondicherry, also, the capital settlement of the French in the East Indies, had been surrendered to the British troops, and the English were left undisputed masters of the rich coast of Coromandel, and of the whole trade of the vast Indian Peninsula, from the Ganges to the Indus. Considering how, for the last quarter of a century, Whitefield’s whole soul had been absorbed in the great work of preaching Christ and saving souls, it is curious to see him so profoundly interested in the war which was now raging in the four quarters of the earth, and in the victories won by the British arms. Hence the following:――

“London, July 6, 1761. Blessed be God, I am better! Blessed be God that you are so likewise! Who knows what rest and time may produce? Oh to be blanks in the hands of Jesus! When shall this once be? What good news by sea and land! Grace! Grace!”

Wesley was now in Yorkshire, and was anxious about the health of his old and much-loved friend. He had been in company with Venn, who had become vicar of Huddersfield, and Venn had created fears that Whitefield’s labours and life were almost ended. Hence, in a letter to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, the London banker, Wesley wrote:――

“Bradford, July 16, 1761. Mr. Venn informs me that Mr. Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote to me lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. Perhaps, sir, you can send me better news concerning him. What need have we, while we do live, to live in earnest!”[488]

For weeks after this, Whitefield was almost entirely silent. To an afflicted friend, he wrote:――

“LONDON, October 13, 1761.

“MY DEAR FELLOW-PRISONER,――I hope the all-wise Redeemer is teaching us to be content to be buried ourselves, and to bury our friends. This is a hard but important lesson. I have not preached a single sermon for some weeks. Last Sunday, I spoke a little; but I have felt its effects ever since. Father, Thy will be done! Glory be to God, that some good was done at Plymouth! The news drove me to my knees, and stirred up an ambition to be employed again. I have met with changes. My two old servants are married, and gone. Mr. E――――” (query John Edwards?) “has preached for me some time. As yet, the congregations are kept up.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield set out for Edinburgh, to obtain medical advice. While halting at Leeds, he received news of the death of one of his assistants at Bethesda; and wrote as follows:――

“Leeds, October 24, 1761. I am still in this dying world, but frequently tempted to wish the report of my death had been true, since my disorder keeps me from my old delightful work of preaching. But Jesus can teach us to exercise our passive as well as active graces. Fain would I say, ‘Thy will be done!’ I know now what nervous disorders are. Blessed be God that they were contracted in His service! I am riding for my health; but I think a voyage would brace me up. I impute my present disorder, in a great measure, to the want of my usual sea voyages.

“What sudden changes here! O that my great change were come! Happy Polhill! Bethesda’s loss is thy gain! To be carried to heaven in an instant; from a ship’s cabin into Abraham’s bosom; O what a blessing! God sanctify and make up the loss! We shall find few Polhills.

“I see you are running in arrears. Some way or other, I trust, they will be discharged. But I would have the family reduced as low as can be. The keeping of those who are grown up hurts them, and increases my expense. I have little comfort in many whom I have assisted. But our reward is with the Lord. I can at present bear very little of outward cares.”

Five days later, Whitefield had reached Newcastle, where he wrote the following to Mr. Robert Keen, of London:――

“NEWCASTLE, October 29, 1761.

“MY DEAR STEADY FRIEND,――Hitherto the Lord has helped me. Surely His mercy endureth for ever. I bear riding sixty miles a day in a post-chaise quite well. Friends, both here and at Leeds, are prudent, and do not press me to preach much. But, I hope, I am travelling in order to preach. If not, Lord Jesus help me to drink the bitter cup of a continued silence with a holy resignation, believing that what is, is best! Everywhere, as I came along, my spiritual children gladly received me. I hope you go on well at London. It is the Jerusalem――the Goshen. To-morrow, I may set forwards towards Edinburgh.”

At Edinburgh, Whitefield consulted four eminent physicians.[489] There are only two more letters to tell the remainder of his story during the year 1761: the first addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow; the second to Mr. Robert Keen, of London.

“Edinburgh, November 9, 1761. Though I have been very ill since my coming to Edinburgh, yet I must come to see my dear friends at Glasgow. I cannot be there till noon on the 12th inst. Little, very little, can be expected from a dying man.”

“Leeds, December 1, 1761. It is near ten at night and I am to set off to-morrow in the Leeds stage for London. Silence is enjoined me for a while by the Edinburgh physicians. They say my case is then recoverable. The great Physician will direct.”

The poor fellow apparently was dying; but, even under such circumstances, his enemies could not restrain their malice. It is a painful thing to advert again to hostile publications, but Whitefield’s history cannot be fully told without it. Some, belonging to 1761, have been already noticed; others, unfortunately, are, as yet, unmentioned:――

1. “A Funeral Discourse, occasioned by the much-lamented Death of Mr. Yorick, Prebendary of Y――k, and Author of the much-admired ‘Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.’ Preached before a very mixed Society of Jemmies, Jessamies, Methodists, and Christians, at a nocturnal meeting in Petticoat Lane; and now Published, at the unanimous request of the hearers, by Christopher Flagellan, A.M. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.) It is enough to say that this profane and filthy production was dedicated to “the Right Honourable the Lord F――――g, and to the very facetious Mr. Foote!”

2. “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a Methodist Teacher of the Word. Containing an Account of the many Marvellous Adventures which befel him in his way from the town of Kingston-upon-Hull to the City of York. London, 1761.” (8vo. 32 pp.) This was an infamous production, full of burlesque and banter; but the foot-note, at the end of it, will be quite enough to satisfy the reader’s craving:――

“As Snip’s manuscript concludes thus abruptly, I beg leave to finish the whole with an account of what I observed at a puppet show, exhibited at one of the principal towns in the west of Yorkshire. Punch was introduced in the character of Parson Squintum, the field-preacher, holding forth to a number of wooden-headed puppets, mostly composed of old women and ungartered journeymen of different callings. The more noise Punch (alias Squintum) made, the more the audience sighed and groaned. At last, Squintum said something about a woman with the moon under her feet, and pointed up to the sky, on which he desired them to fix their eyes with steadfastness. They did so; and, while their eyes were thus fixed, he very fairly picked all their pockets, and stole off. Oh, Punch, Punch! Thou Alexander the Coppersmith! thou Ananias Inlignante! what will become of thee hereafter, for thus vilifying the Inspired of Heaven, the Grand Obstetrix of those chosen few, who are impregnate with the New Birth!”

3. A third of these malignant productions professed to have for its author the most notorious quack of the age, “Dr. Rock,” and was entitled, “A Letter to the Reverend Mr. G――e Wh――――d, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford.” (12mo. 8 pp.) The purport of this bantering tract was, a proposal that, as Rock and Whitefield were both quacks, they should enter into partnership. The thing displayed cleverness,――perhaps too great to affiliate it on the great empiric. One or two extracts must suffice:――

“If you set up for a copy of St. Paul (as it is observed you do, even to the mimicking of Raphael’s picture of him at Hampton Court), I do the same by the old stager――Hypocrites, I think they call him. If you undertake to cleanse and purify the soul, I do the like by the body. If you are an enemy to the regular drones of your profession, I am as much to those of ours. If you profess to serve the public for the sake of the public, so do I. Do you pocket the fee when it is offered?――I do the same. Are the mob your customers?――they are mine likewise. Are you called a quack in doctrinals?――I bear the same reproach in practice. Are you the scorn and jest of men of sense?――I want but very little of being as much their jest and scorn as you. In a word, as it is said that you turn the brains of your patients, it is affirmed, with equal truth, that I destroy the constitutions of mine.”

Supposing Whitefield might have objections to the proposed partnership, Rock pretends that he has objections too; for, says he:――

“Nobody, I thank God, can upbraid me with devouring widows’ houses; leading captive silly women; confounding the peace and ruining the substance of families; preaching up Christ, and playing the devil; blindly recommending charity, and, at the same time, guilty of the worst oppression by squeezing the last mite out of the pockets of the poor.”

Dr. Rock concludes by stating that Whitefield “is a public pest, an incendiary of the worst kind, and a deceiver of the people.”

This was bad to bear, especially for a man in Whitefield’s state of health; but more must follow:――

4. “The Crooked Disciple’s Remarks upon the Blind Guide’s Method of Preaching for some years; being a Collection of the Principal Words, Sayings, Phraseology, Rhapsodies, Hyperboles, Parables, and Miscellaneous Incongruities of the Sacred and Profane, commonly, repeatedly, and peculiarly made use of by the Reverend Dr. Squintum, delivered by him, viva voce ex Cathedra, at Tottenham Court, Moorfields, etc. A work never before attempted. Taken verbatim from a constant attendance. Whereby the honesty of this Preacher’s intentions may be judged of from his own doctrine. By the learned John Harman, Regulator of Enthusiasts. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.)

This was one of the vilest pamphlets ever published. Its trash cannot be quoted. It is enough to say that, besides “A Short Specimen of the Rev. Dr. Squintum’s Extemporary Sermons,” it contains what it calls one of Whitefield’s prayers, prefaced thus:――

“The following preamble is Dr. Squintum’s fervent, solemn form of prayer; delivered by him in an attitude similar to that of Ajax, in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. His body erect, his hands extended, his face thrown upwards, with his eyes gazing towards the stars. Torvo vulto, tendens ad sidera palmas. Alternately changing from his theatrical astonishments into violent enthusiastical agitations and distortions, accompanied with weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth! Strange vicissitudes! which he strictly keeps up to, throughout the whole of his preaching.”

5. “The Spiritual Minor. A Comedy. London.” (8vo. 32 pp.) Another infamous production, with a “Prologue,” by Mrs. Cole, and an “Epilogue,” by Dr. Squintum. The dramatis personæ are Mr. Squintum, Mr. Rakish, Mr. Screamwell, Mr. Scruple, Mr. Cheatwell, Feeble, Mrs. Cole, and Miss Ogle.

All this is extremely loathsome, and worthy of Foote, the comedian. Two other names, much more respectable than Doctor Rock and John Harman, must now be introduced.

6. Jonas Hanway, the distinguished merchant, traveller, and philanthropist, was now in the fiftieth year of his age. Eight years before, he had published his travels, in four 4to. volumes, under the title of “An Historical Account of the Caspian Trade over the Caspian Sea; with a Journal of Travels from London, through Russia, into Persia, etc.; to which are added the Revolutions of Persia during the present Century, with the particular History of the Great Usurper, Nadir Kouli.” In 1754, he called the attention of the Government to the bad state of the streets in London and Westminster. In 1756, he took steps which ultimately led to the establishment of the Marine Society. In 1758, he made strenuous exertions to improve the Foundling, and to establish the Magdalen Hospitals. And now, in 1761, he published “Reflections, Essays, and Meditations on Life and Religion; with a Collection of Proverbs in Alphabetical Order; and Twenty-eight Letters, written occasionally on several subjects――viz., The Absurd Notions of the Sect called Methodists; The Customs of foreign Nations in regard to Harlots; The Lawless Commerce of the Sexes; The Repentance of Prostitutes; And the great Humanity and Beneficence of the Magda_lane_ Charity. By Mr. Hanway. London, 1761.” (Two vols., 8vo., pp. 280 and 317.)

As Mr. Hanway became so notable a man, that, two years after his death, a monument, by public subscription, was erected to his memory, in Westminster Abbey; his sentiments on Whitefield deserve insertion. At all events, the critique of the benevolent old bachelor, who had the courage to be the first who appeared in the streets of London carrying an umbrella, will, perhaps, amuse the reader.

“I intended, a long while since,” says he, “to hear Mr. Whitefield at Tottenham Court, and I have at length compassed my design. The prayers were performed with as much devotion as one generally finds at any church, and, as well as I remember, without any excursions foreign to the Church Service. Fame had represented him to me as a great orator; but in this I was a little disappointed, not but he performs, upon the whole, tolerably well. The tunes and concordance of the singing are also very proper and agreeable; though I thought that psalms, or anthems, would be better than hymns; or the true harmony of sense and numbers, than such poor poetry as was sung.

“When he began his sermon, the oddness of some of his conceits, his manner, and turn of expression, had I not been in a place of public worship, would have excited my laughter. As he went on, I became serious, then astonished, and at length confounded. My confusion arose from a mixture of sorrow and indignation, that any man bearing the name of a minister of our meek and blessed Redeemer, or the dignity of the Christian priesthood, should demean himself like an inhabitant of Bedlam. I thought I saw human nature in distress, as much as in the cells of lunatics; with this difference, that he was permitted to go abroad, and make others as mad as himself; which he might be able to accomplish by means of the credulity of his audience, joined to the art of making them think that himself and his fraternity are the only people in their senses.

“I must inform you, that, opposite to this celebrated preacher, sat a dozen or more of old women, of that class who, within this half-century, might easily have been persuaded, by threats or promises, that they had rode in the air on broomsticks, and, confessing it, might have been put to death by people as much bewitched as themselves. Their intellectual powers are so far decayed, that they do not distinguish between receiving alms, in relief of their misery, and receiving hire, as hummers and hawers. This is the denomination given, by many sober persons, to these old women, some of whom, I am assured, have confessed that they are retained ♦by hire, for sighing and groaning.”

Mr. Hanway proceeds to say that he had been to the Haymarket, to see “The Minor” acted, but “had not health, nor patience to sit out above half of it.” He adds:――

“I wish the principles of the Methodists may be understood more clearly by being brought on the stage; but I question if the character of the bawd, in ‘The Minor,’ has any existence, and, if so, the whole fabric of the drama is built on false grounds. If it does exist, is it so proper a subject for the theatre, as for St. Luke’s Hospital? This dramatic piece may possibly intimidate some from becoming Methodists; but, however popular it may be, I am very doubtful concerning the propriety of the measure, as to the end of correcting the enthusiasm in question. It is said, that, this comedy ‘has shaken the pillars of Tottenham Tabernacle,’ and I must add, that, I believe no harm would happen were it to tumble, provided the poor people, who frequent it, were at their work, or saying their prayers in their parish churches.

“As to the peruke and shoemaker declaimers, whose recommendation is consummate impudence, warm imaginations, and the remembrance of texts which they have no capacity to understand, it would be an indignity offered to the Christian priesthood to call such persons Teachers or Preachers of the Gospel. And as to the gentlemen of Methodistical tenets, who have had a scholastic education, how few among them are there who would not face about to the right, for the consideration of a good ecclesiastical benefice. I have very particular reasons to believe the major part of them would conform to Church orthodoxy and intelligible Christianity, if they did not find a better living in another way.”

7. So much for the eccentric Jonas Hanway. Another pamphleteer――much more able, though not so well known to fame――must now be introduced. Whitefield had already been attacked by the Bishop of London, the Bishop of Lichfield, and the Bishop of Exeter. Now, he came under the lash of the Rev. John Green, D.D., Bishop of Lincoln. In 1760, Dr. Green published an 8vo. pamphlet of seventy pages, addressed to Berridge, of Everton; but that must be passed without further notice. A year later, he issued another pamphlet with the title, “The Principles and Practices of the Methodists farther considered; in a Letter to the Reverend Mr. George Whitefield. Cambridge, 1761.” (8vo. 74 pp.) The Bishop of Lincoln wrote with great ability. The chief fault to be found with him is, that, he based his strictures upon the first editions of Whitefield’s Journals, and his “Short Account of God’s Dealings with him,” published in 1740. This was hardly fair, because Whitefield, since then, had, more than once, publicly expressed his regret for having used certain loose and extravagant expressions in these productions. Dr. Green was either not acquainted with Whitefield’s apologies, or he chose, for some hidden purpose, not to acknowledge them. Anyhow, remembering that such apologies had been made, and that Whitefield’s health was now even dangerously affected, paragraphs, like the following, were neither courteous nor fair:――

“In that curious repository of religious anecdotes, called your Journals, I have often seen and pitied the distress you have been in between strength of inclination and want of ability; when you have recited several things, which bordered on the marvellous, and which, notwithstanding, you did not care to vouch for miraculous.

“All the exalted things you have said, and all the wonderful things you have done, will pass, I fear, with many, only for the frenzy and rant of fanaticism. They will be apt to think your journeyings the effects of a roving and itinerant temper, and ascribe them to a strong tincture of that heroical passion, by which so many saints of the Romish communion have been actuated.

“Though possessed of so happy a talent at opening the hearts and purses of the people, that you were traduced under the name of ‘the Spiritual Pickpocket,’ yet you have not ventured to trust your support to the precarious offerings of voluntary contribution. Though you have not chosen to put yourself in a situation to claim any legal dues; yet you have lately dispensed your instructions, on the stipulation of certain periodical payments, and under the sanction of that unquestionable truth, ‘that the labourer is worthy of his hire.’

“We have instances on record, how an audience has been dissolved into tears by an orator, without knowing a single syllable of that which he uttered; have been moved by the efficacy of words which they did not understand, and by the goodly appearance of the speaker, whom they knew nothing of, to yield the sincerest proofs of their convictions by a liberal supply of such good things as he wanted. Some incidents of the same sort are said to have happened to yourself, and that the bare sight of your blessed gown and wig, though out of the reach of that elocution which so much surprises, and that pathos which so much moves, has not only softened the hearts and moistened the eyes, but drawn large pecuniary supplies to your charitable designs from the pity and benevolence of your female disciples.”

These were taunts unworthy of a bishop of the Established Church, and undeserved by poor afflicted Whitefield. Doubtless, they were painful; but they were patiently endured.

Whitefield’s health was somewhat better. On January 8, 1762, he wrote: “The Scotch journey did me service. I preached on New Year’s Day, and am to do so again to-morrow. I had a violent fall upon my head, from my horse, last Thursday, but was not hurt. Mr. Berridge is here, and preaches with power. Blessed be God that some can speak, though I am laid aside!”

No information exists as to how Whitefield spent the first three months of 1762. He still, however, was the subject of disgraceful persecution. During this interval, there was published a small 8vo. volume (price 2s. 6d.), entitled, “A Plain and Easy Road to the Land of Bliss, a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator ――――.” No good end would be answered by quotations from it. “It is,” said the Monthly Review, “contemptible for its stupidity. It is a filthy, obscene thing, for which the dirty author ought to be washed in a horse-pond.”[490]

In April, Whitefield went to Bristol, where he continued for about a month. The following extracts from his letters will shew the progress he was making:――

“Bristol, April 17, 1762. Bristol air agrees with me. I have been enabled to preach five times this last week, without being hurt. Were the door open for an American voyage, I believe it would be serviceable in bracing up my relaxed tabernacle. But He who knoweth all things, knoweth what is best. I see more and more, that grace must be tried. O for a heart to be made willing to be nothing, yea, less than nothing, that God may be all in all!”

“Bristol, April 18, 1762. Sunday. This morning I have been administering the ordinance; and this evening I hope to be upon my throne again. Who knows but I may yet be so far restored as to sound the gospel trumpet for my God? The quietness I enjoy here, with the daily riding out, seems to be one very proper means. Be this as it will, I know ere long I shall serve our Lord without weariness. A few more blows from friends, and from foes, and the pitcher will be broken. Then the wicked one will cease from troubling, and the weary traveller arrive at his wished-for rest.”

“Bristol, May 4, 1762. I see it is always darkest before the break of day. O that we could always remember that blessed promise, ‘At evening-tide it shall be light’! The archers have of late shot sorely at me and grieved me; but blessed be God for a little revival in my bondage. For these three weeks past, I have been enabled to preach four or five times a week; but you would scarce know me, I am so swollen, and so corpulent. Blessed be God for the prospect of a glorious resurrection!”

On his way back to London, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“Rodborough, May 21, 1762. I hope to be in London on Tuesday or Wednesday next. Through Divine mercy, preaching four or five times a week has not hurt me; and twice or thrice I have been enabled to take the field: in my opinion, a greater honour than to be monarch of the universe. London cares and London labours, I expect, will bring me low again; but I hope soon to slip away, and to get strength, and then to hunt for precious souls again. How gladly would I bid adieu to ceiled houses, and vaulted roofs! Mounts are the best pulpits, and the heavens the best sounding-boards. O for power equal to my will! I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the everlasting gospel of the Son of God. I write this at a house built for dear Mr. Adams.[491] From his window is a prospect perhaps of thirty miles. I have wished you here with your telescope. But if the footstool is so glorious, what must the throne be!”

“London, May 28, 1762. I am just now come to town for a few days, sensibly better for my country excursion. Once more, I have had the honour of taking the field, and have now some hopes of not being as yet quite thrown aside as a broken vessel. Help me to praise Him, whose mercy endureth for ever.”

In the month of June, Whitefield sailed to Holland, where his health was further benefited. At the end of July, he was preaching at Norwich, and wrote:――

“Norwich, July 31, 1762. The trip to Holland, last month, was profitable to myself, and, I trust, to others. If my usefulness is to be continued in London, I must be prepared for it by a longer itinerancy both by land and water. At present, blessed be God! I can preach once a day; and it would do your heart good to see what an influence attends the word. All my old times are revived again. On Monday next, God willing, I shall set forwards to Lincolnshire, Yorkshire, etc.”

Ten days after this, Whitefield attended the annual Conference of Wesley and his itinerants, in the town of Leeds. This was a notable assembly, for, besides the brave band of Wesley’s helpers, there were present the two Wesleys, Whitefield, Romaine, Madan, Venn, and, last but not least, the Countess of Huntingdon![492] Wesley wrote:――

“We had great reason to praise God for His gracious presence, from the beginning to the end.”

From Leeds, Whitefield proceeded to his beloved Scotland, where he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, September 2, 1762. I am just this moment returned from Glasgow, where I have been enabled to preach every day, and twice at Cambuslang. Auditories were large, and Jesus smiled upon my feeble labours.”

“Edinburgh, September 9. I came here a week ago. Since then, I have been helped to preach every day. The kirk has been a Bethel. Grace! Grace! On Monday, the 13th inst., I shall set off. Follow me with your prayers.”

On Sunday, September 19, Whitefield was at Sunderland;[493] and on the following Sunday at Leeds. Here he wrote to his friend, Mr. Robert Keen, as follows:――

“I am just now setting forwards towards London, but fear I cannot reach it before Sunday. My chaise wanted repairing here. O how good hath Jesus been to a worthless worm! Once a day preaching, I can bear well; more hurts me. What shall I do with the Chapel and Tabernacle? Lord Jesus, be thou my guide and helper! He will! He will! Send word to the Tabernacle that you have heard from me. We have had sweet seasons.”

The “Seven Years’ War” was now nearly ended. The campaign of 1762 was eminently successful. Frederick the Great and Prince Ferdinand had been victorious in Germany; Burgoyne had aided Portugal in repelling the Spaniards; and the English fleet and army in the West Indies had taken the Carribbean Islands and Havannah. Lord Bute, the prime minister of England, strongly desired peace, for the English people were complaining loudly of increased taxation. He engaged the neutral king of Sardinia to propose to the court of France negotiations for a termination of the war. Louis XV., like a drowning man, caught at the proposal. The Duke of Bedford was selected as plenipotentiary and ambassador extraordinary to Paris; and the high-born and gallant Duke de Nivernois came to London in the same capacity. This was in September; and the negotiations proceeded with such rapidity, that preliminaries for peace were signed at Fontainebleau on the 3rd of November following.

In consequence of these events, Whitefield now had a prospect of carrying out his long-cherished wish to visit his Orphan House, and his numerous friends, across the Atlantic. He wrote, as follows, to the housekeeper of his Orphanage:――

“London, October 15, 1762. I wish to answer your letter in person. I hope the time is now drawing near. I count the weeks, and days, and hours. Blessed be God that you live in such harmony! A house thus united in Jesus will stand. I write this in great haste. I am enabled to preach once a day. Give thanks! give thanks!”

In November, Whitefield went to Bristol, where his “congregations were large, and a most gracious gale of Divine influence attended the word preached.” Having promised to visit Plymouth, he wrote to his friend there, the good Andrew Kinsman:――

“Let grand preparations be made,――as a candle, a book, and a table; above all, much prayer, that I may not again relapse at Plymouth, as the Bristol people say I shall do, by coming at this season of the year.”

On reaching Plymouth, he wrote:――

“Plymouth, December 4, 1762. Being under a positive promise to come here before I left England, I embraced this opportunity. Through mercy, I preached last night, and find no hurt this morning. Many young people, I hear, are under great awakenings. O to begin to wage an eternal war with the devil, the world, and the flesh! I would fain die sword in hand.”

Whitefield had an old trusty servant, Mrs. Elizabeth Wood,[494] to whom he wrote as follows:――

“Plymouth, December 5, 1762. You did very wrong, in not letting me know of your mother’s necessities. She was a widow indeed; but now she is above the reach of everything. I am weary of the world, of the Church, and of myself. I cannot get up to London till near Christmas Day. As affairs are there circumstanced, everything there tends to weigh me down. O that patience may have its perfect work! Let me always know your wants. It is your own fault if you lack anything, whilst I have a farthing.”

Kind-heartedness was a prominent trait in Whitefield’s character. It was during this, or some other visit to Plymouth, that an incident occurred which is worth telling. “Come,” said Whitefield to his friend and host, Andrew Kinsman, “come, let us go to some of the poor and afflicted of your flock. It is not enough that we labour in the pulpit; we must endeavour to be useful out of it.” Away the two friends went, and Whitefield not only gave counsel to those they visited, but monetary aid. Kinsman reminded him that his finances were low, and that he was more bountiful than he could afford. “Young man,” replied Whitefield, “it is not enough to pray, and to put on a serious countenance: ‘pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,’ and to administer to their wants. My stock, I grant, is nearly exhausted, but God will soon send me a fresh supply.” In the evening, a gentleman called, and asked to see Whitefield. “Sir,” said he, “I heard you preach yesterday: you are on a journey, as well as myself; and, as travelling is expensive, will you do me the honour of accepting this?” The present was five guineas, and came from a man noted for his penuriousness. “Young man,” cried Whitefield, on his return to Kinsman, “young man, God has soon repaid what I bestowed. Learn, in future, not to withhold when it is in the power of your hand to give.”[495]

Whitefield, on his way to London, halted at Bristol, and wrote to Kinsman, as follows:――

“Bristol, December 12, 1762. We got here yesterday, all well, excepting that I lost my watch in the way. If it teach me to be more on my watch in the best things, the loss will be a gain. Lord, help me in everything to give thanks! I do not repent my Plymouth journey. Thanks to you all for your great kindnesses. Thanks, eternal thanks, to the God of all, for giving us His presence! It is better than life. I have not yet seen your daughter; but I hear she is well. Tell Sarah not to murder so dear a child. Hugging to death is cruelty indeed. Adieu! I must away to sacrament. O for such a one as we had last Sunday! Mind and get up in a morning to pray, before you get into shop.”

Whitefield wished to embark for America; but, before doing so, had a difficulty to encounter. He had erected two large and flourishing chapels in London, which, in consequence of the sites on which they stood being granted to himself on lease, were practically his own property. The money by which the chapels had been built was not his; and he felt that it would be unjust if, by his decease, they came into the possession of his heirs and successors. Hence, as he was hoping soon to sail, and as his health was such as to render his return to England a doubtful matter, he was anxious to have the Tabernacle and the Tottenham Court Road chapel so settled, that the purpose for which they had been erected might never be frustrated. Hence the following to Mr. Robert Keen:――

“January 15, 1763.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――Do meet me to-morrow, at one o’clock, at Mr. B――――n’s, Canonbury House. I have something of importance to communicate. It is to beseech you, jointly with Mr. Hardy and Mr. B――――n,[496] as trustees, to take upon you the whole care of the affairs of Tottenham Court chapel, and of the Tabernacle, and all my other concerns in England. This one thing being settled, I have nothing to retard my visit to America, to which I think there is a manifest call at this time, both as to the bracing up my poor, feeble, crazy body, and adjusting all things relating to Bethesda. Your accepting this trust will take off a ponderous load that oppresses me much.”

There can be little doubt, that, Messrs. Keen and Hardy consented to take the management of the two chapels during Whitefield’s absence in America; but it is also clear that no trust deed, transferring the chapels to these two gentlemen, was at that time executed. Hence the following clause in Whitefield’s will, dated March 22, 1770:――

“Whereas there is a building, commonly called the Tabernacle, set apart many years ago for Divine worship, I give and bequeath my said Tabernacle, with the adjacent house in which I usually reside, when in London, with the stable and coach-house in the yard adjoining, together with all books, furniture, and everything else whatsoever, that shall be found in the house and premises aforesaid; and also the buildings commonly called Tottenham Court chapel, together with all the other buildings, houses, stable, coach-house, and everything else whatsoever which I stand possessed of in that part of the town,――to my worthy, trusty, tried friends, Daniel West, Esq., in Church Street, Spitalfields, and Mr. Robert Keen, woollen-draper in the Minories, or the longer survivor of the two.”

This is a curious clause. In the year of his decease, Whitefield evidently believed the London chapels and their adjacent premises to be his own property, but he had no wish for them to pass to his representatives and heirs. His desire was that they should be used in perpetuity, for preaching the same glorious gospel, as he had preached for more than the last thirty years; and hence the above bequest. The oddness of the thing, however, is, that Whitefield’s will created no trust; and that, by it, these two chapels became as absolutely the property of Messrs. West and Keen as they had been his own.

It is only right to add, that, in making his will, Whitefield was his own lawyer. At all events, the will was in his own handwriting. And, further, it is due to Mr. West and Mr. Keen to say, that, though they might have appropriated this property to their own private use, they faithfully carried out the intentions of Whitefield, and managed the chapels, not for their own benefit, but, for the glory of God and the good of their fellow-men. Mr. Keen died on January 30, 1793; and Mr. West on September 30, 1796.[497] The last-mentioned gentleman, as the survivor of the two “trusty friends” mentioned in Whitefield’s will, bequeathed the property to Samuel Foyster and John Wilson, both of them well known in the Christian world. This, however, is not the place to pursue the history of the glorious old Tabernacle in Moorfields, and of the aristocratic chapel in Tottenham Court Road.

Whitefield took leave of his London congregations on Wednesday, February 23, when he preached a farewell sermon, from “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.” In the earlier parts of this biography, lengthened extracts were given from Whitefield’s sermons, for the purpose of conveying an idea of the character of his preaching, at that period of his ministry. For the same purpose, other extracts from sermons, belonging to the present date, may be given here.

In the sermon, preached on February 23, 1763, Whitefield is reported as having said:――

“‘The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.’ It is not said, all ministers, or all of this or that particular people; but with all believers. Mr. Henry said, he desired to be a Catholic, but not a Roman Catholic. There is a great reservoir of water from which this great city is supplied; but how is it supplied? Why, by hundreds and hundreds of pipes. Does the water go only to the Dissenters, or to the Church people,――only to this or that people? No: the pipes convey the water to all; and, I remember, when I saw the reservoir, it put me in mind of the great reservoir of grace, the living water that is in Christ Jesus.

“What a horrid blunder has the Bishop of Gloucester been guilty of! What do you think his lordship says, in order to expose the fanaticism of the Methodists? ‘Why,’ says he, ‘they say they cannot understand the Scriptures without the Spirit of God.’ Can any man understand the Scriptures without the Spirit of God helps him? Jesus Christ must open our understanding to understand them. The Spirit of God must take of the things of Christ, and shew them unto us. So, also, with respect to all ordinances. What signifies my preaching, and your hearing, if the Spirit of God does not enlighten? I declare I would not preach again, if I did not think that God would accompany the word by His Spirit.”

“Are any of you here unconverted? No doubt too many. Are any of you come this morning, out of curiosity, to hear what the babbler has to say? Many, perhaps, are glad it is my last sermon, and that London is to be rid of such a monster; but surely you cannot be angry with me for my wishing that the grace of God may be with you all. O that it may be with every unconverted soul! O man! what wilt thou do if the grace of God is not with thee? My brethren, you cannot do without the grace of God when you come to die. Do you know that without this you are nothing but devils incarnate? Do you know that every moment you are liable to eternal pains? Don’t say I part with you in an ill humour. Don’t say that a madman left you with a curse. Blessed be God! when I first became a field-preacher, I proclaimed the grace of God to the worst of sinners; and I proclaim it now to the vilest sinner under heaven. Could I speak so loud that the whole world might hear me, I would declare that the grace of God is free for all who are willing to accept of it by Christ. God make you all willing this day!”

Was Whitefield still a Calvinist? Language like this can hardly be harmonized with Whitefield’s holding the doctrine of election, and, by consequence, the doctrine of reprobation. Two or three extracts from other sermons, preached at this period of his history, may be useful.

“Woe! woe! woe! to those who, in the hour of death, cannot say, ‘God is my refuge.’ O what will you do, when the elements shall melt with fervent heat? when the earth with all its furniture shall be burnt up? when the archangel shall proclaim, ‘Time shall be no more!’ Whither then, ye wicked ones, ye unconverted ones, will ye flee for refuge? ‘O,’ says one, ‘I will flee to the mountains.’ Silly fool! flee to the mountains, that are themselves to be burnt up! ‘O,’ say you, ‘I will flee to the sea.’ That will be boiling! ‘I will flee to the elements.’ They will be melting with fervent heat. I know of but one place you can go to, that is to the devil. God keep you from that! Make God your refuge. If you stop short of this, you will only be a sport for devils. There is no river to make glad the inhabitants of hell: no streams to cool them in that scorching element. Were those in hell to have such an offer of mercy as you have, how would their chains rattle! how would they come with the flames of hell about their ears! Fly! sinner, fly! God help thee to fly to Himself for refuge! Hark! hear the word of the Lord! See the world consumed! See the avenger of blood at thy heels! If thou dost not take refuge in God to-night, thou mayest to-morrow be damned for ever.[498]

“Tremble for fear God should remove His candlestick from among you. Labourers are sick. Those who did once labour are almost worn out; and others bring themselves into a narrow sphere, and so confine their usefulness. There are few who like to go out into the fields. Broken heads and dead cats are no longer the ornaments of a Methodist. These honourable badges are now no more. Languor has got from the ministers to the people; and, if you don’t take care, we shall all be dead together. The Lord Jesus rouse us! Ye Methodists of many years’ standing, shew the young ones, who have not the cross to bear as we once had, what ancient Methodism was.[499]

“Don’t be angry with a poor minister for weeping over them who will not weep for themselves. If you laugh at me, I know Jesus smiles. I am free from the blood of you all. If you are damned for want of conversion, remember you are not damned for want of warning. You are gospel-proof; and, if there is one place in hell deeper than another, God will order a gospel-despising Methodist to be put there. God convert you from lying a-bed in the morning! God convert you from conformity to the world! God convert you from lukewarmness! Do not get into a cursed Antinomian way of thinking, and say, ‘I thank God, I have the root of the matter in me! I thank God, I was converted twenty or thirty years ago; and, though I can go to a public-house, and play at cards, yet, I am converted; for once in Christ, always in Christ,’ Whether you were converted formerly or not, you are perverted now. Would you have Jesus Christ catch you napping, with your lamps untrimmed? Suffer the word of exhortation. I preach feelingly. I could be glad to preach till I preached myself dead, if God would convert you. I seldom sleep after three in the morning; and I pray every morning, ‘Lord, convert me, and make me more a new creature to-day!’”

These extracts are neither eloquent, nor particularly instructive; but they serve to shew the declamatory and colloquial style used by Whitefield in the latter period of his ministry. His sermons were earnest talk, full of anecdotes, and ejaculatory prayers.

It is only just to add, that the sermons, from which the foregoing extracts are taken, were not written and published by Whitefield himself, nor yet with his permission. They were “taken verbatim in shorthand, and faithfully transcribed by Joseph Gurney;” and were “Revised by Andrew Gifford, D.D.” The sermons, in Gurney’s volume, issued in 1771, were eighteen in number; but, two or three were published separately previous to that. To one of these, Whitefield raised strong objections. “It is not verbatim,” said he; “in some places Mr. Gurney makes me to speak false concord, and even nonsense.”[500] The publication of Gurney’s volume (8vo. 455 pp.) created great unpleasantness. In the first instance, Whitefield’s executors consented to the publication, and agreed to remunerate the transcriber for his labour; but, when half the sermons were “worked off,” they were so dissatisfied with them, that they informed the shorthand writer, they were “not able to recommend them to the public.” No doubt, the objections of the executors were well founded; but still, though the sermons might not be reported with perfect accuracy, they may be fairly taken as a specimen――though an imperfect one――of Whitefield’s style of preaching during the last few years of his eventful life.

After his farewell sermon, at the Tabernacle, on February 23, Whitefield set out for Scotland. On his way, he preached for Berridge at Everton;[501] Berridge, together with Thomas Adams, having engaged to supply his place in London.[502] He visited Sheffield, and preached in Wesley’s, unplastered, though white-washed, chapel in Mulberry Street, taking as his text, Romans v. 11. Here, as in the extract above given, he warned the people against resting satisfied with a past conversion. “In your Bibles,” said he, “you have registered your births; and some of you the time when you were born again; but are you new creatures now?”[503]

On March 4, he arrived at Leeds, and here, besides preaching, he employed himself in writing his “Observations on some Fatal Mistakes, in a Book lately published, and entitled, ‘The Doctrine of Grace; or, the Office and Operations of the Holy Spirit Vindicated from the Insults of Infidelity and the Abuses of Fanaticism. By William, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.’ In a Letter to a Friend. By George Whitefield, A.M., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1763.” (12mo. 35 pp.)[504]

This was, I believe, the first instance in which, in England, A.M. was attached to Whitefield’s name; and even now the degree, conferred by New Jersey College in 1754, was not appropriated by Whitefield himself, but was foolishly used by his friends, who printed his pamphlet after he embarked for America.

So far as the Methodists were concerned, the book of Bishop Warburton was levelled against Wesley, rather than against Whitefield. The worst, indeed, almost the only sneer against Whitefield, was, that, though both Wesley and he were mad, Whitefield was “the madder of the two.” Wesley’s reply to Warburton was published in a 12mo. volume of 144 pages; but, with a single exception, need not be quoted here. In answer to one of the Bishop’s contemptuous remarks, that Whitefield set up himself as Wesley’s rival, Wesley says: “We were[505] in full union; nor was there the least shadow of rivalry or contention between us. I still sincerely ‘praise God for His wisdom in giving different talents to different preachers;’ and particularly for His giving Mr. Whitefield the talents which I have not.”

Whitefield’s “Observations” were smartly and rather ably written; but two extracts must suffice. He admits that the “modern defenders of Christianity, in their elaborate and well-meant treatises, against the attacks of Infidels and Free-thinkers, have shewn themselves, as far as human learning is concerned, to be masters of strong reasoning, nervous language, and conclusive arguments;” but they lacked a “deep and experimental knowledge of themselves, and of Jesus Christ.” With regard to Bishop Warburton in particular, he affirms, that, his lordship, “in his great zeal against fanaticism, and to the no small encouragement of infidelity, has, as far as perverted reason and disguised sophistry could carry him, robbed the Church of Christ of its promised Comforter; and, thereby, left us without any supernatural influence or Divine operations whatsoever” (pp. 5, 6). Then turning to Warburton’s abuse of the Methodists, Whitefield remarks:――

“To set these off in a ridiculous light, this writer runs from Dan to Beersheba; gives us quotation upon quotation out of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journals; and, to use his own simile upon another occasion, by a kind of Egyptian husbandry, draws together whole droves of obscene animals, of his own formation, who rush in furiously, and then trample the Journals, and this sect, under their feet. Our author calls the Rev. Mr. John Wesley ‘paltry mimic, spiritual empiric, spiritual martialist, new adventurer.’ The Methodists, according to him, are ‘modern apostles, the saints, new missionaries, and illuminated doctors.’ Methodism itself is modern saintship; Mr. Law begat it; Count Zinzendorf rocked the cradle; and the devil himself was midwife to their new-birth” (p. 24).

In reference to Wesley’s Journals and his own, Whitefield says:――

“Whatever that indefatigable labourer, the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, may think of his, I have long since publicly acknowledged that there were, and doubtless, though now sent forth in a more correct attire, there are yet many exceptionable passages in my Journals. And I hope it will be one of the constant employments of my declining years to humble myself daily before the Most High God, for the innumerable mixtures of corruption which have blended themselves with my feeble, but, I trust, sincere endeavours to promote the Redeemer’s glory. If his lordship had contented himself with pointing out, or even ridiculing, any such blemishes, imprudences, or mistakes, in my own, or in any of the Methodists’ conduct or performances, I should have stood entirely silent. But when I observed his lordship, through almost his whole book, not only wantonly throwing about the arrows and firebrands of scurrility, buffoonery, and personal abuse, but, at the same time, taking occasion to vilify, and totally deny the operations of the blessed Spirit, by which alone his lordship, or any other man, can be sanctified and sealed to the day of eternal redemption, I must own that I was constrained to vent myself to you, as a dear and intimate friend, in the manner I have done. Make what use of it you please.

“At present, I am on the road to Scotland, in order to embark for America; and only add, that the method used by his lordship to stop, will rather serve to increase and establish what he is pleased to term a ‘sect of fanatics.’ Bishop Burnet prescribed a much better way to stop the progress of the Puritan ministers. ‘Out-live, out-labour, out-preach them,’ said his lordship. That the Rev. Mr. John Wesley himself, that famed leader of the Methodists, and every Methodist preacher in England may be thus outed and entirely annihilated is, and shall be, the hearty prayer of George Whitefield” (pp. 33–35).

Having completed his pamphlet at Leeds, Whitefield proceeded to Newcastle, where he wrote:――

“NEWCASTLE, March 13, 1763.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――I cannot go further without dropping you a few lines. They leave me thus far advanced in my journey to Scotland. My friends write me word, that the ship Jenny, Captain Orr, a very discreet person, sails from Greenock to Boston the middle of April. You will pray that the God of the sea and dry land will give me a safe and speedy passage. On the road, we have been favoured with some sweet seasons. I have preached at Everton, Leeds, Kippax, Aberford, and this place. Next Sabbath I hope to be at Edinburgh. On my way, I finished a little thing in answer to the present Bishop of Gloucester. If my friends think proper to print it, you will find a testimony left behind me for the good old Puritans and free-grace Dissenters, whom he sadly maligns.”

Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh, as he expected; but, instead of sailing in the middle of April, his embarkation was deferred until the 4th of June. During this unexpected detention, his old friend Wesley came to Scotland, and wrote: “Sunday, May 22. At Edinburgh, I had the satisfaction of spending a little time with Mr. Whitefield. Humanly speaking, he is worn out; but we have to do with Him who hath all power in heaven and earth.”[506] Though “worn out,” Whitefield continued preaching, as often as he could. He spent eleven weeks in Scotland, and, towards the end of that interval, had an alarming illness. In Lloyd’s Evening Post, for June 6, it was announced, “The Rev. Mr. Whitefield is so ill in Scotland, as not to be able to embark for America.” But, four days later, the same journal contained the following: “Last week, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, being recovered from his indisposition, sailed from Greenock, on board the Fanny, Captain Galbraith, bound to Rappahanock, in Virginia.”[507]

The best glimpses of Whitefield, during his stay in Scotland, will be obtained by brief extracts from his letters. To his old servant, Elizabeth Wood, he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, March 19. I was quite concerned to see you so ill. I charge you to want for nothing. Speak to Messrs. Keen and Hardy: they will supply you at any time. Do not be afraid to go near the Tabernacle House. I will own and stand by my dear, steady, and faithful servants and helpers. Such a one you have been. O for heaven! There are no thorns and briars amongst God’s people there. In about a month, I expect to sail.”

In a letter to a friend, he said:――

“Edinburgh, March 26, 1763. After my return from Glasgow, I may be here a fortnight. My poor body is so far restored, that I can mount the gospel throne once a day. Perhaps the sea air may brace me up a little more; but, after all, it is only like the glimmering of a candle before it goes out. Death will light it up in a better world. O that I had done more for the blessed Jesus! O that I could think more of what He has done for me! The Edinburgh prescriptions have been blessed to me. My spirits are much brisker than when here last.”

To Mr. Keen, who now, in conjunction with Mr. Hardy, had the management of his London chapels, Whitefield wrote:――

“Edinburgh, March 26, 1763. I thank you for your kind letter; and thank the Lord of all lords that matters go on so well. I am more than easy. The Lord has directed my choice, and will bless, assist, and reward those employed. Ten thousand thanks to you all. You may act as you please with respect to Mr. ――――. His attending the Tabernacle when I was well, and leaving it ever since I have been sick, does not look well at all; but please yourselves, and you will please me. Do not consult me in anything, unless absolutely necessary. On Monday, I am going to see about the ship. I am sorry my little piece, entitled ‘Observations,’ etc., is not come out yet.”

In another letter to Mr. Keen, he observed:――

“Leith, May 14, 1763. Why so fearful of writing a long letter? The longer the better. Though disappointed in embarking, by reason of sickness, I can read and write, and hope soon to get upon my throne again. I have been able to go upon the water to-day for several hours. Others can die, but I cannot. Father, Thy will be done! What a God do I serve! Physicians, friends on every side of me! And what is all in all, the great Physician comforting my soul! Thank, O thank Him in behalf of a worthless worm!”

Whitefield’s last letter, before his departure, was the following:――

“GREENOCK, June 4, 1763.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――A thousand thanks for your kind letters. Jesus is kind. I am better, and just going on board the Fanny, bound to Rappahanock, in Virginia. Yours to good Lady Huntingdon is taken care of. I hear her daughter died well,[508] and that her ladyship is comforted and resigned. Blessed be God! Adieu! Follow me with your prayers.

“Ever yours,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Thus ended Whitefield’s eight years’ wanderings in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. During this interval, he had reached the zenith of his usefulness and fame. His health was now broken; and, though he lived for seven years afterwards, he, comparatively speaking, continued to be, what Wesley called him, a “worn-out” man.

SIXTH VISIT TO AMERICA.

JUNE 4, 1763, TO JULY 8, 1765.

WHITEFIELD’S voyage to America was long, but pleasant. Nearly twelve weeks were spent upon the ocean. His letters will best display his feelings.

“AT SEA, July 15, 1763.

“This leaves me looking towards Virginia, but only as a harbour in my way to an infinitely better port, from whence I shall never put out to sea again. I have been surprisingly kept up during the voyage,――long, but not tedious. Jesus has made the ship a Bethel. I have enjoyed that quietness which I have in vain sought after for some years on shore. Not an oath has been heard even in the greatest hurry. All has been harmony and love. But my breath is short, and, since my relapse in Scotland, I have little hope of much further public usefulness. A few exertions, like the last struggles of a dying man, are all that can be expected from me.”

On landing in Virginia, Whitefield wrote two pastoral letters, one to his “dear Tabernacle hearers;” the other to those at Tottenham Court Road. Both were written on the same day, and the following is an extract:――

“VIRGINIA, September 1, 1763.

“For some weeks, I was enabled to preach once a day when in Scotland, and, I trust, not without Divine efficacy. But, being taken ill of my old disorder at Edinburgh, I had to remain silent for near six weeks, and sometimes I thought my intended voyage would be retarded, at least, for one year longer. Having, however, obtained a little strength, I embarked, for the eleventh time, in the ship Fanny, and I have not been laid by an hour, through sickness, since I came on board. Everything has been suitable to my low estate,――a large and commodious cabin, a kind captain, and a most orderly and quiet ship’s company, who gladly attended whenever I had breath to preach. Often, often have I thought of my dear London friends, when I guessed they were assembled together; and as often prayed, when I knew that they were retired to rest, that He, who keepeth Israel, would watch over them, and make their very dreams devout. How I am to be disposed of, when on dry land, is best known to God. Had I strength equal to my will, I could fly from pole to pole. Though wearied, and now almost worn out, I am not weary of my blessed Master’s service, O love Him! Love Him! Make Him your portion, and He will be your confidence for ever. Through His leave, I hope to see you again next year. Meanwhile, as long as I have breath, it shall be my heart’s desire and prayer to God, that the labours of the dear servants of Jesus, who are called to preach amongst you, may be so blessed that I may not be missed a single moment.”

As soon as he left the ship, Whitefield set out for a cooler climate than that of Virginia. Hence the following:――

“VIRGINIA, September 7, 1763.

“We are now on dry land. Christian friends, whom I never before heard of, were prepared to receive me; and I have preached four times. This leaves me on my way to Philadelphia, still visited with my old disorder. Well: He that cometh will come, and will not tarry. Blessed are all they who wait for Him.”

“PHILADELPHIA, September 29, 1763.

“Ebenezer! Hitherto the Lord hath helped! I have been here above a week; but am still an invalid. When you write, mention nothing but what relates to the eternal world. I have no thoughts to throw away on the trifling things of time. Tender love to all who are travelling to the New Jerusalem.”

Whitefield spent two months among his old acquaintance at Philadelphia, but his health was not improved. His interest, however, in the work of God was as profound as ever. To his friend Mr. Keen, he wrote:――

“PHILADELPHIA, October 21, 1763.

“The bearer of this is a young, sober gentleman, intended for the temple, and will be glad to see and hear Mr. Romaine, and other gospel ministers. I hope all are flaming for God. Some young bright witnesses are rising up in the Church here. I have already conversed with about forty new-creature ministers, of various denominations. I am informed that sixteen hopeful students were converted at New Jersey College last year. What an open door, if I had strength! But, Father, Thy will be done! Blessed be His name, I can preach now and then. Last Tuesday, we had a remarkable season among the Lutherans. Children and grown people were much impressed. If possible, I intend returning with Mr. Habersham (now here) to Georgia.”

Poor Whitefield was not able to fulfil his intentions. Instead of visiting his Orphan House, he was, for more than a year, obliged to content himself with writing to its managers. The following is an extract from the first of these letters:――

“PHILADELPHIA, November 8, 1763.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIENDS,――Man appoints; and God, for wise reasons, disappoints. All was ready for my coming, by land, to you at Bethesda, with Mr. Habersham; but several things concurred to prevent me; and the physicians all agree, that the only chance I have for growing better, is to stay and see what the cold weather will do for me. At present, I make a shift to preach twice a week; but, alas! my strength is perfect weakness. What a mercy that Jesus is all in all! You will let me hear from you very particularly. I want to know the present state of all your affairs in every respect.”

There was, however, another reason, besides his state of health, why he deferred his visit to Bethesda. True, after the long “Seven Years’ War,” peace had been proclaimed between France and England; but, during the war, the opponents had cruelly employed the Indians in carrying out their purposes; and now it was far from easy to keep the Indians quiet. Hence the following, addressed to Mr. Robert Keen:――

“PHILADELPHIA, November 14, 1763.

“I am about to make my first excursion, to the New Jersey College. Twice a week preaching, is my present allowance. Many, of various ranks, seem to be brought under real concern. Physicians are absolutely against my going to Georgia, till I get more strength. Besides, it is doubtful whether the southern Indians will not break out; and, therefore, a little stay in these parts may, on that account, be most prudent.”

Towards the end of November, Whitefield and Habersham started from Philadelphia; but, instead of getting to Georgia, Whitefield was obliged to halt at New York, where he remained about two months. Extracts from his letters written here will be useful.

“NEW YORK, December 1, 1763.

“Some good impressions have been made in Philadelphia, and we had four sweet seasons at New Jersey College, and two at Elizabeth Town, on my way hither. Some said they resembled old times. My spirits grow better; but thrice a week is as often as I can preach. To-day, I begin here, and have thoughts of returning with Mr. Habersham to Georgia, but am fearful of relapsing by such a fatiguing journey.”

Again, Whitefield was unable to proceed to Georgia. Hence the following, written to the managers of his Orphan House:――

“NEW YORK, December 7, 1763.

“MY DEAR FRIENDS,――What a mortification it is to me not to accompany my dear Mr. Habersham to Bethesda. Assure yourselves, I shall come as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I have desired Mr. Habersham to assist in supervising and settling the accounts, and to give his advice respecting the house, plantation, etc. I beg you will be so good as to let me have an inventory of every individual thing, the names and number of the negroes, and what you think is necessary to be done every way. I would only observe in general, that I would have the family lessened as much as may be, and all things contracted into as small a compass as possible. Once more, adieu, though, I trust, but for a short season. My heart is too full to enlarge. I purpose going to New England; but it will be better to go to heaven. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.”

“NEW YORK, December 16, 1763.

“Jesus continues to own the feeble labours of an almost worn-out pilgrim. Every day, the thirst for hearing the word increases, and the better sort come home to hear more of it. I must go soon to New England. Cold weather and a warm heart suit my tottering tabernacle best.”

“NEW YORK, December 18, 1763.

“I am in better health than when I wrote last. Preaching thrice a week agrees pretty well with me this cold season of the year. I am apt to believe my disorder will be periodical. New Jersey College is a blessed nursery, one of the purest, perhaps, in the universe. The worthy president and three tutors are all bent upon making the students both saints and scholars. I was lately there for a week. The Redeemer vouchsafed to own the word preached. Prejudices in New York have most strangely subsided. The better sort flock as eagerly as the common people, and are fond of coming for private gospel conversation.”

The year 1763 will be suitably closed by a warm-hearted letter to Charles Wesley.

“NEW YORK, December 26, 1763.

“MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,――Once more I write to you from this dying world. Through infinite, unmerited mercy, I am helped to preach twice or thrice a week, and never saw people of all ranks more eager in Philadelphia and in this place, than now. Lasting impressions, I trust, are made. At New Jersey College, we had sweet seasons among the sons of the prophets, and I have had the pleasure of conversing with new-creature ministers of various denominations. Ere long, we shall join the elders about the throne. Then shall we all greatly marvel, and try who can shout loudest, ‘He hath done all things well.’ Neither you, nor your brother, nor the highest archangel in heaven, shall, if possible, outdo even me, though less than the least of all. Continue to pray for me, as such. I hope your brother lives and prospers. Remember me to your dear yoke-fellow, and all enquiring friends; and assure yourselves of not being forgotten in the poor addresses of, my dear friend,

“Yours in Jesus,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[509]

In more than one of these extracts, Whitefield makes grateful mention of his conversing with what he calls “new-creature ministers.” This is a notable fact. Compared with his first visits to America, the difference, in this respect, was great. It ought always to be remembered, that the revival, in the days of Whitefield and the Wesleys, was remarkable, not only for the quickening of churches and the saving of sinners, but also for the raising up of a host of converted ministers, in England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and America. This was not the least of its glorious results.

Whitefield longed to be at Bethesda, but the hope of being benefited by the colder atmosphere of the northern colonies still detained him. The following is taken from another letter addressed to the managers of his Orphan House:――

“New York, January 12, 1764. The cold braces me up a little. I am enabled to preach twice or thrice a week. Congregations continue very large, and, I trust, saving impressions are made upon many. O for a blessed gale of Divine influences when we meet at Bethesda! From thence, or from Charlestown, I purpose to embark for England. But future things belong to Him, who, whatever may be our thoughts, always orders all things well.”

The following extract from the Boston Gazette confirms the foregoing statements, respecting Whitefield’s congregations in New York:――

“New York, January 23, 1764. The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield has spent seven weeks with us, preaching twice a week, with more general acceptance than ever. He has been treated with great respect by many of the gentlemen and merchants of this place. During his stay, he preached two charity sermons: one on the occasion of the annual collection for the poor, when double the sum was collected that ever was upon the like occasion; the other for the benefit of Mr. Wheelock’s Indian School, at Lebanon, in New England, for which he collected (notwithstanding the prejudices of many people against the Indians) the sum of £120. In his last sermon, he took a very affectionate leave of the people of this city, who expressed great concern at his departure. May God restore this great and good man (in whom the gentleman, the Christian, and the accomplished orator shine forth with such lustre) to a perfect state of health, and continue him long a blessing to the world, and the Church of Christ!”

Immediately after this, Whitefield set out for New England, and, on his way, preached in Long Island, Shelter Island, and other places. On arriving at Boston, about February 13, he received a hearty welcome, not only from his old acquaintance, but from the people in general. His enormous collections, in 1761, for the distressed Protestants in Germany, and for the sufferers by the great fire at Boston, have been already mentioned. Now, as was fitting, the Boston people thanked him for his assistance. Hence the following:――

“Boston, February 20. Monday last, at a very general meeting of the freeholders and other inhabitants of this town, it was voted unanimously that the thanks of the town be given to the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, for his charitable care and pains in collecting a considerable sum of money in Great Britain, for the benefit of the distressed sufferers by the great fire in Boston, 1760. And a respectable committee was appointed to wait on Mr. Whitefield, to inform him of the vote, and present him with a copy thereof; which committee waited upon him accordingly, and received the following answer:――

“GENTLEMEN,――This vote of thanks for so small an instance of my goodwill to Boston, as it was entirely unexpected, quite surprises me. Often have I been much concerned that I could do no more upon such a distressing occasion. That the Redeemer may ever preserve the town from such-like melancholy events, and sanctify the present afflictive circumstances to the spiritual welfare of all its inhabitants, is the hearty prayer of,

“Gentlemen, your ready servant in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[510]

A few days after this, Whitefield wrote to his friend, Mr. Robert Keen, as follows:――

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us